Cibrarp  of  'the  theological  ^etnmar^ 

PRINCETON  • NEW  JERSEY 
PRESENTED  BY 

Delavan  L*  Pierson 


D.  L.  PIERSON, 
1515  Pacific  Street, 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN.  Illustrated.  Cr.  8vo  . . $1.75 

THE  PACIFIC  COAST  SCENIC  TOUR.  From 
Southern  California  to  Alaska.  Illustrated.  Cr. 

8vo 2.50 

SPAIN  AND  MOROCCO.  Studies  in  Local  Color. 

l2mo 1.25 

CHOPIN,  AND  OTHER  MUSICAL  ESSAYS.  l2mo  . 1.50 

WAGNER  AND  HIS  WORKS.  The  Story  of  his  Life, 
with  Critical  Comments.  With  Portraits.  2 vols. 

Cr.  8vo  4.00 


GEISHA  PLAYING  SAMISEN 


LOTOS-TIME  IN 


BY 

/ 

HENRY  T.  FINCK 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS 
1895 


COPYRIGHT,  1895,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS 


Nortoooh  ifkfss : 

J.  S.  Cushing  & Co.  — Berwick  & Smith. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


Ccrtuallg  ©etiicatetu 

TO 


HENRY  VILLARD 


PREFACE 


Flower  festivals  are  the  great  national  holidays  in 
Japan,  where  every  month  has  its  floral  favorite.  Lotos- 
Time  extends  through  July  and  August.  In  some 
respects  midsummer  is  not  the  most  favorable  season 
for  tourists,  because  of  the  damp  heat  and  copious 
rains.  But  while  the  autumn  air  is  drier  and  more 
bracing,  it  is  only  in  summer  that  one  can  climb  Fuji 
or  visit  Yezo  to  advantage ; and  summer  has  this  fur- 
ther advantage,  that  the  heat  compels  the  natives  to 
remove  the  fronts  of  their  flimsy  houses,  so  that  the 
tourist  can  see  every  detail  of  family  life,  in  countless 
interiors.  Thus  a trained  observer  might  get  material 
enough  in  a week  or  two  for  a volume  of  description, 
by  taking  either  “ the  beaten,  because  most  interesting 
tracks,”  or  the  more  remote  regions,  where  foreigners 
are  rarely  or  never  seen.  And  the  longer  he  remains, 
the  more  will  he  realize  the  truth  of  Professor  Cham- 
berlain’s remark  that  in  Japan  the  subject-matter  for 
an  author  is  so  plentiful  that  “the  chief  difficulty  is 
to  know  what  to  omit.” 

If  the  reader  expects  to  find  in  this  preface  an  abject 
apology  for  adding  another  volume  to  the  long  list  of 


vii 


Vlll 


PREFACE 


books  on  Japan,  he  will  be  grievously  disappointed. 
Have  I not  just  as  much  right  to  try  my  hand  and  luck 
as  my  “ seventy-times-seven-hundred  ” predecessors? 
Herodotus  wrote  about  Egypt  twenty-four  centuries 
ago,  yet  books  on  that  country  continue  to  appear  every 
year.  Asiatic  Japan  is  certainly  not  less  interesting 
than  African  Egypt,  yet  the  first  European  who  de- 
scribed it  lived  only  two  centuries  ago,  and  after  he 
had  done  his  work  Japan  remained  hermetically  sealed 
to  the  rest  of  the  world  until  about  forty  years  ago, 
so  that  it  still  preserves  many  mediaeval  customs,  the 
contrast  and  clash  of  which  with  the  imported  elements 
of  our  Occidental  civilization  produce  a multitude  of 
picturesque  phenomena  that  will  continue  to  fascinate 
and  tempt  authors  and  artists  for  many  years  to  come. 
The  stoiy  of  Rip  van  Winkle  is,  like  so  many  other 
things,  reversed  in  Japan,  where  it  is  the  country  that 
has  gone  to  sleep,  and  the  visitor  that  is  up  to  date. 

That  there  is  room  for  another  volume  on  this  re- 
markable country  I may  perhaps  be  allowed  to  infer 
from  the  fact  that,  among  the  hundreds  of  books  in 
various  languages  that  I have  looked  over,  I have  not 
found  one  in  which  is  given  a convenient  bird’s-eye 
view,  in  a few  brief  chapters,  of  the  principal  points 
in  which  Japanese  civilization  is  superior  to  our  own. 
In  attempting  to  do  this,  in  a modest  way,  I have  forti- 
fied my  arguments  with  quotations  from  the  authorita- 
tive and  admirable  volumes  of  Messrs.  Griffis,  Cham- 


PREFACE 


IX 


berlain,  Hearn,  Black,  Alcock,  Mitford,  Misses  Bacon 
and  Bird,  and  others,  to  all  of  whom  I am  indebted  for 
much  instruction  and  pleasure.  Such  a bird’s-eye  view 
is,  it  seems  to  me,  particularly  timely  and  desirable,  in 
view  of  the  American  tendency  to  estimate  Japanese 
civilization  from  a purely  material  and  military  point 
of  view.  I have  tried  to  show  that  the  Japanese  have 
as  much  to  teach  us  as  we  have  to  teach  them,  and  that 
what  they  can  offer  us  is,  on  the  whole,  of  a higher 
and  nobler  order  than  what  Ave  can  offer  them.  Japa- 
nese civilization  is  based  on  altruism,  ours  on  egotism. 
Mr.  Howells’s  Traveller  from  A Itruria  might  have  almost 
hailed  from  Japan,  and  Mr.  Bellamy,  while  Looking 
Backivard,  might  have  benefited  by  looking  across  the 
Pacific  for  ideals  of  social  refinement  and  happiness. 
The  comparison  of  Japan  Avith  America  is  particularly 
suggestive,  as  her  virtues  balance  our  vices,  and  vice 
versa. 

The  bulk  of  the  present  volume  is,  hoAvever,  innocent 
of  didactic  purpose,  its  sole  object  being  to  present  a 
feAv  realistic  and  unbiassed  sketches  from  life  and 
nature,  and  to  exhibit  to  the  reader  and  possible  tourist 
specimens  of  the  every-day  experiences  he  Avould  be 
likely  to  have  in  Japan.  Personal  details,  of  a trivial 
nature  are  given  only  in  situations  where  it  Avas  be- 
lieved that  they  Avould  increase  the  vividness  of  the 
local  coloring.  Tourist  luck  was  against  me  in  the 
matter  of  Fuji,  Avhile  it  greatly  favored  me  in  Yezo, 


X 


PREFACE 


among  the  Ainos.  For  my  excellent  opportunities  to 
study  certain  phases  of  life  in  Tokyo,  I am  especially 
indebted  to  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Heromich  Shugio,  a 
Japanese  gentleman  who  is  as  well  known  in  New 
York  society  and  clubs  as  in  the  aristocratic  circles  of 
Japan’s  capital.  I also  wish  to  express  my  gratitude 
to  Mr.  Yabi,  my  native  travelling  companion,  whose 
encyclopaedic  knowledge  of  things  Japanese  helped  me 
to  avoid  misleading  the  reader,  and  added  greatly  to 
the  pleasures  of  my  travels. 

The  use  of  the  word  “native”  in  this  book  calls  for 
a line  of  explanation,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  it  may 
possibly  be  read  by  some  of  the  numerous  Japanese  who 
now  speak  English,  and  whose  feelings  I do  not  wish 
to  hurt.  It  appears  that  there  is  current  prejudice 
against  the  word  “native,”  because  a standard  diction- 
ary translates  it  as  dojin , which  means  aborigines  in 
their  barbarous  condition.  Of  course  I use  the  word 
merely  in  its  ordinary  sense,  as  the  opposite  of  “for- 
eign,” and  to  avoid  too  frequent  repetition  of  the  word 
“ Japanese.” 

H.  T.  F. 


New  York,  March  2,  1895. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

To  Japan,  via  Hawaii 

Time  and  Expense  — Five  Hours  at  Honolulu — Mount 
Fuji  — Are  American  Indians  Japanese?  — Scenes  in 
Yokohama  Bay  — Perry  and  his  Oyster 

Yokohama  — Foreign  and  Native 

Baby  Carriages  for  Adults  — Half-way  House  to 
Japan  — Barbers  and  Bar-rooms  — The  Bund  and  the 
Bluff  — Clubs  — Scarcity  of  Foreign  Women  — Staring 
at  Foreigners — Young  Beggars  — Oriental  Bowery 
Shows  — Queer  Music — Godowns  and  Green  Tea  — An 
Apology  for  Yokohama 

Railway  and  Kuruma 22 

America  in  Japan  — Locomotives  and  Natives  — A 
Typical  Station  — Clog  Dance  — A Eurasian  Hotel — A 
Polite  Clerk  — A Plea  for  Lemons  — A Quiet  City  — 
Bird’s-eye  View  — Hills  and  Parks  — Traits  of  Kuruma 
Coolies — What  is  Degrading  Work? 

Street  Scenes  in  Tokyo  • 37 

Recent  Changes  — Daimyos  and  Samurai — Yashikis 
and  Moats  — Policemen  — Attacks  on  Foreigners  — 
Safety  in  City  and  Country  — Shops  and  Homes  exposed 
to  View  — Bazaars  — Trades  Flocking  Together  — Comic 
Signboards  — Ungrammatical  Costumes  — Brunettes  in 
Blue — Modest  Exposure  — Japanese  Children  — Bowing 
— How  the  Poor  Live  — Fires  and  Godowns 


xi 


I 


CONTENTS 


xii 

PAGE 

From  Morning  till  Midnight 54 

Tokyo  at  its  Toilet  — Dogs  and  Chickens  — Fish 
Market  — Dangerous  Wells — Nap  Time  — A Foolish 
Law  — Coolies  versus  Horses  — Street  Sprinkling  — 
Planed  Ice  — Stewed  Tea  — A Carriage  Drive  — Where 
Missionaries  Live  — Scenes  about  a Buddhist  Temple  — 
Religion  and  Fun  — Archery  Girls  — A Night  Crowd  — 
Flower  Show  — River  Festival  — Day  and  Night  Fire- 
works— The  City  Band 

Wine,  Women,  and  Song 75 

Beauty  of  Japanese  Women  — Brunettes  only — Wait- 
ing Maids  and  Singing  Girls  — Like  the  Ancient  Greeks 
— An  Esthetic  Banquet — Music  and  Banter  — Fireboxes 
— Rice  Wine  — Soup  and  Fish  — Chopsticks  — Dancing 
and  Drums  — Gilded  Vice  — A Slave  Market  — Trap  for 
Criminals 

A Theatre  and  A School 91 

Only  Seven  Hours  — Behavior  of  the  Audience  — 
Social  Status  of  Actors  — Trailing  Trousers  — The 
Kneeling  Nation  — Expression  of  Emotion  — Chinese 
Falsetto  — Scenery  and  Music  — Stage  Illusions  — Count 
Okuma’s  School  — Speeches  and  Prizes  — Lunch  in  the 
Count’s  Garden 

The  Mikado  and  The  Exhibition 103 

A Vast  Curio  Store  — Visitors  — Semi-Foreign  Picture 
Gallery — A Gastronomic  Insult — An  Imperial  Prisoner 
— The  Mikado’s  First  Outing — Invisible  No  Longer  — 
Editorial  Punishment — A Remarkable  Monarch  — 
Personal  Appearance  — Evening  Dress  in  the  Morning 
— Japanese  Journalists  — Emperor  or  Mikado? — A For- 
eign Dinner 

Off  for  Japanese  Siberia 117 

Climate  of  Japan  — Monkeys  in  the  Snow  — Skating 
in  Tokyo  — Yezo  versus  Hondo — Damp  Days  — Climate 


CONTENTS 


Xlll 


PAGE 

and  Literature  — Professors  at  Home  — Coolie  Traits  — 
Guides  — A Literary  Companion  — Unusual  Privileges  — 
Mulberry  Plantations  — An  Inn  at  Sendai  — Transform- 
ing a Room  — Quilts  and  Pillows  — The  Bill 

On  a Coast  Steamer 128 

The  Famous  Pine  Islands  — The  Island  Empire  — 
Melons  and  Eels  — Japanese  Steamers  — High  Fare  — 
Meals  in  “Foreign”  Style  — Yankees  Out-Yankeed 
— Passengers  and  Cargo  — A Large  Fishing  Village 

Japanese  Gibraltar  135 

Sights  in  Hakodate  — New  Buddhist  Temple  — An 
Interview  — A Japanese  Interior — Toy  Garden  and 
Fish  Pond  — Barber  and  Taylor  — How  to  please  Girls 
— Taken  to  the  Bath  — Courtship  and  Marriage  — Odors 
and  Noises  — Dining  and  Climbing  — A Sea  Bath  — 
Round  the  Island  — “Irish  Stewed”  — Otaru  Peasants  — 
Marvel  of  Politeness  — A Mixed  Inn 

American  Sapporo 151 

Natives  in  the  Ocean  — Capitol  of  Yezo  — Russian 
Designs  — American  Farms  and  Factories  — Expensive 
Experiments  — City  and  Suburbs  — Calling  on  the  Gov- 
ernor-General— A Eurasian  House  — Beer  and  Fruit  — 

The  Superintendent’s  Kindness  — A Unique  Museum 
— A Dairy  — Seeing  the  Factories  — Tea-house  Girls  — 
Lamps  and  Washstands  — American  and  Asiatic  Cor- 
respondence— A Comic  Resemblance 

Into  the  Virgin  Forest 166 

A Greek  Idyl  — In  a Japanese  Coal  Mine  — Convicts 
— Ride  on  a Coal  Train  — A Pond  and  a Bathing  Scene 
— Caught  in  the  Rain  — Horses  and  Guides  — Treating 
the  Ainos  — Bear  Fights  and  Poisoned  Arrows — Ameri- 
can Clearings  — Japanese  Pioneers  — Forest  Enchant- 
ment— Nightingales  and  Flowers  — Polite  Convicts — 

A Yezo  Song  — Centre  of  the  Island  — More  Ainos — 
Newspapers  and  Magazines 


XIV 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The  Ainos  and  the  Whale 192 

Yezo  Apples  — Time  not  Money — Stage  Ride  to  Mo- 
roran  — A Useful  Lotos  Pond  — Japanese  Chivalry — 
Along  the  Wild  Coast  — Beach  Roses  — Fireboxes  — 

A Deserted  Aino  Town  — Excitement  on  the  Beach 
— Whale  Ashore  — Blubber  and  Prayers  — Aino  Women 
— Revenge  on  the  Kodaker 

From  Mororan  to  Hakodate 203 

Escorted  to  the  Inn  — Crossing  the  Stormy  Bay — Sub- 
urbs of  Hakodate  — Expense  of  the  Yezo  Trip  — Bath  in 
the  Sulphur  Springs  — The  Typhoon 

Through  Mediaeval  Japan 208 

Bear  Cub  — Melons  — Roofs  — From  Railway  to  Ku- 
ruma — Early  Morning  Scenes — Ravages  of  the  Storm  — 
Changeable  Rivers  and  Coolies  — Silkworms  — Foreign- 
ers as  a Curiosity — A Remarkable  Runner  — Types  of 
Female  Beauty  — Ditches  and  Deaths  — Rainy  Japan  — 

How  Coolies  Eat  — Babies  and  Pickles  — Naked  and 
not  Ashamed — An  Exciting  Ferry  — A Grand  Avenue 

A Pilgrim’s  Paradise 224 

A Rainy  Region  — Nikko’s  Long  Street  — Our  Summer 
House  — Pilgrim  Processions  — Nature  and  Religion  — 
Ieyasu — The  Temples  — Art  Works  — A Sacred  Dance 
— Ferns,  Mosses,  and  Sun  Jewels — Lotos  Roots  — What 
Japanese  Houses  Need 

Nikko  Lakes  and  Waterfalls 234 

Back  View  Cascade  — Tea  or  Lies  — Kegon-No-Taki — 

Lake  Chuzenji — A Lakeside  Inn  — Dragon’s  Head  Cas- 
cade— Moor  of  the  Red  Swamp — Lake  Yumoto  — Pub- 
lic Baths — The  Hot  Springs  — Foam  Cascade  — Nearly 
a Waterfall  — Snake  Stories  — A Cholera  Scare  — A 
Night  half  way  up  Fuji  — Sleeping  under  an  Umbrella 


CONTENTS 


XY 


PAGE 

Railway  Genre  Pictures  ......  248 

The  Legend  of  Fuji  and  Biwa  — A Popular  Railway  — 

How  Japanese  Women  Smoke — A Married  Beauty — 

The  Dress  Problem  — Fat  Wrestlers  — Lunch  Boxes 
— Cheap  Tea  Sets 

Fascinations  of  Kyoto 255 

Watermelons  and  Cholera — The  Japanese  Rome  — 

A City  of  Temples  — The  Corean  Ear  Mound  — Buddhist 
Chanting  — Rascally  Priests  — Silk  Factories  — Southern 
Female  Beauty  — The  Spanish  Type — Photographs  of 
Geishas  — A Blind  Musician  — Koto  Concert — Cheap 
Art  Treasures  — An  Oriental  Nocturne 

Lake  and  Lotos  Pond 267 

Otsu  — Puns  and  Poetry  — Japan’s  Largest  Lake  — 

Acres  of  Lotos  Flowers  — Difficult  to  Paint  — The  Lotos 
in  Japan,  India,  and  America 

Are  the  Japanese  Topsy-Turvy?  .....  273 

Two  Funny  Incidents  — Social  Antipodisms  — A Per- 
verse Language  — A Japanese  Letter — Lacquer  and 
Wind  — When  we  are  Topsy-Turvy  — How  to  stable 
Horses — Proper  Way  to  address  Letters 

The  Mote  and  the  Beam 280 

Six  Hundred  Missionaries  — Denominationalism — An 
Agnostic’s  Opinion  — Creeds  and  Deeds — Occidental 
Bunkum  — Indians  and  Slavery  — Getting  Civilized  — 
Commercial  and  Sexual  Morality 

Nudity  and  Bathing 286 

Public  Baths  — Modest  Exposure — A Foolish  Law  — 
Nudity  and  Climate  — Customs  of  Various  Countries  — 
Shocked  at  our  Habits — No  “Great  Unwashed”  — A 
Sensuous  Luxury  — Bathing  to  get  Warm — Scenes  in 
Bath  Houses  — An  Esthetic  Question  — Neglect  of  the 
Nude  in  Art 


XVI 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The  Esthetic  Nation 298 

Music 'and  Nationality  — Future  of  Japanese  Music  — 
Sculpture  and  Architecture  — Great  in  Small  Things  — 
Decorative  Art  — Impressionism  — Irregularity  — Love 
of  Nature  — Flowers  versus  Bouquets  — Flower  Seasons 
— Poetic  N ames  — Mottoes  on  Screens — Japanese  Poetry 
— Love  Letters  on  Trees 

A Superior  Civilization 313 

Care  for  Parents  — A Paradise  of  Babies  — Children 
born  Civilized  — School  and  Holidays  — A Thousand 
Years  of  Politeness  — A Language  without  Profanity 
— Smiling  in  Grief  — Altruism  versus  Egotism  — Amer- 
ican Rudeness  — No  Flaunting  of  Wealth  — American 
Plutocracy  — Inside  and  Outside  — Kindness  to  Animals 
— Transition  Period  — Three  Kinds  of  Patriotism  — 
Shintoism  — Criminals  and  Crowds  — Sailors’  Amuse- 
ments — How  to  enjoy  Life 


l 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Geisha  playing  Samisen  . 

Frontispiece 

Kuruma  ..... 

FACING  PAGE 

. 10 

Beggars  

. 16 

A Kago 

. 38 

Silk  Store  

. 46 

Carrying  Children  . 

. 50 

Pleasure  Boat  .... 

. 70 

Glimpse  of  an  Interior  . 

. 78 

Tea  Plantation 

. 124 

Rain  Coats 

. 172 

Hairy  Aino 

. 200 

Fuji,  from  Hakone  Lake  . 

. 244 

Koto  and  Samisen  Players 

. 264 

Lotos  Pond 

. 270 

Artificial  Landscape  Garden 

. 306 

A Flower  Lesson 

. 308 

xvn 


TO  JAPAN  VIA  HAWAII 

TIME  AND  EXPENSE  — FIVE  HOURS  AT  HONOLULU MOUNT 

FUJI  — ARE  AMERICAN  INDIANS  OF  JAPANESE  ORIGIN?  — 
SCENES  IN  YOKOHAMA  BAY PERRY  AND  HIS  OYSTER 

To  most  Americans  a trip  to  Japan  seems  almost 
equal  to  a globe-trotting  expedition,  yet  it  involves 
to-day  little  more  expenditure  of  time  and  money  than 
a trip  to  Europe  did  to  our  fathers.  Thirty  or  forty 
years  ago  it  was  still  customary  to  cross  the  continent 
from  the  Mississippi  River  to  California  in  five  months 
in  “ prairie  schooners.”  The  Panama  steamers  reduced 
that  to  five  weeks  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco, 
and  to-day  we  cross  in  a Pullman  car  in  five  days,  half 
expecting  that  Mr.  Edison  will  before  long  reduce  that 
to  five  hours.  The  further  reduction  to  five  minutes 
will  then  be  a matter  of  secondary  importance.  From 
San  Francisco  or  Vancouver  the  best  steamers  of  the 
Pacific  Mail,  the  Oriental  and  Occidental,  and  the 
Canadian  Pacific  companies  make  the  trip  to  Japan  in 
twelve  to  sixteen  days,  which  is  about  the  time  it  used 
to  take  to  cross  from  New  York  to  European  ports  until 
about  two  decades  ago,  when  the  “ ocean  greyhounds  ” 
were  first  let  loose.  And  although  the  Japanese  round 
trip  involves  about  10,000  miles  more  travel  than  the 
European,  a New-Yorker  can  leave  home  with  $1200 
in  his  pocket,  spend  three  months  in  Japan,  and  return 

B l 


2 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


with  enough  left  for  a dinner  at  Delmonico’s,  or  an 
opera  ticket,  or  both,  if  he  has  been  fairly  economical. 

The  Canadian  line  has  more  fast  steamers  than  any 
other,  and  the  distance  from  Vancouver  to  Yokohama 
— 4330  miles  — is  230  miles  less  than  from  San  Fran- 
cisco, but  the  sea  is  apt  to  be  rougher  at  all  seasons,  the 
route  being  so  much  further  north.  To  insure  smooth 
sailing,  you  can  choose  one  of  the  steamers  of  the 
Pacific  Mail  when  (about  once  in  three  months)  they 
take  a southern  course,  so  as  to  include  a stop  at  the 
Hawaiian  Islands.  This  implies  an  addition  of  800 
miles  to  the  voyage  and  three  days  more  in  time ; but 
the  calm  sea  and  the  half-day  at  Honolulu  more  than 
compensate  for  this.  When  I engaged  my  passage  on 
the  City  of  Peking , I did  not  know  she  was  going  via 
Hawaii ; but  the  discovery  was  a pleasant  surprise,  for 
I had  long  wished  to  get  a glimpse  of  the  “ Paradise  of 
the  Pacific,”  so  long  misnamed  the  Sandwich  Islands.1 
The  City  of  Peking  is  a slow  steamer,  and  it  took  us 
twenty  days  to  reach  Yokohama,  whereas  the  China , of 
the  same  line,  has  made  the  trip  via  Hawaii  in  fifteen 
days  and  eight  hours.  But  we  were  comfortable,  and 
that  was  the  main  point.  The  China  has  made  the 
direct  trip  from  San  Francisco  to  Yokohama  in  less 
than  twelve  days,  and  could  probably  do  it  in  ten  if 

1 They  were  so  called  after  the  Earl  of  Sandwich  by  Captain  Cook. 
But  Cook  was  not  the  first  explorer  who  discovered  these  islands,  and 
he  had  no  right  to  inflict  on  them  a name  which  inevitably  suggests  a 
ten-cent  lunch.  The  Hawaiians  themselves  greatly  dislike  to  be  called 
Sandwich  Islanders,  and  it  was  gratifying  to  see,  during  the  troubles 
of  1894,  that  that  name  for  them  was  gradually  displaced  in  American 
newspapers  by  the  original  term  Hawaiians.  As  in  the  case  of  Mount 
Tacoma  (long  misnamed  Eainier)  and  Lake  Tahoe  (misnamed  Bigler), 
such  arbitrary  proceedings  and  aberrations  of  taste  are  usually  cured 
by  the  lapse  of  time. 


TO  JAPAN  VIA  HAWAII 


3 


necessary.  But  ocean  racing  from  California  ports  is 
not  popular,  owing  to  the  high  price  of  coal. 

It  took  us  a week  to  reach  Honolulu,  and  when  we 
got  there,  the  captain  allowed  us  only  five  hours  to  see 
its  sights.  To  travel  2100  miles  to  a group  of  islands, 
world-famed  for  their  palm  groves,  flowers,  sugar 
plantations,  dusky  Polynesian  beauties,  luscious  melons 
and  mangoes,  tonic  breezes,  balmy  climate,  and  the 
most  sublime  ever-active  volcano  in  the  world,  and  stay 
only  five  hours  seemed,  indeed,  like  the  craziest  kind 
of  globe-trotting.  If  we  had  had  only  a week,  we  might 
have  visited  the  volcano  ; but  under  the  circumstances 
it  was  impossible  to  see  it  unless  we  were  willing  to 
wait  three  months  for  the  next  P.M.  steamer  stopping 
here,  or  else  take  one  of  the  occasional  Japanese  steam- 
ers which  are  probably  ill-equipped  for  Occidental  pas- 
sengers. We  consoled  ourselves  with  the  thought  that 
a trained  observer  can  see  more  in  five  hours  than  a 
careless  spectator  in  five  months.  We  did  see  enough 
to  fill  a chapter  of  description,  but  the  temptation  to  do 
so  must  be  heroically  resisted,  as  our  subject  is  Japan, 
which  claims  so  much  space  for  itself  that  it  brooks  no 
rival.  I must  omit,  too,  the  many  characteristic  inter- 
national episodes  of  our  voyage,  and  pass  on  at  once 
to  its  last  day. 

Before  going  to  Japan  I had  often  dreamed  that,  in 
the  tour  of  the  world,  there  must  be  one  sight  which 
would  fill  even  the  shallowest  globe-trotter  with  a thrill 
of  awe,  and  make  him  a worshipper  of  nature.  Imagine 
the  situation.  For  two  or  three  weeks  you  have  been 
confined  in  a floating  prison,  until  you  have  almost  for- 
gotten that  there  are  such  things  in  the  world  as  trees, 
fields,  houses,  rivers,  mountains ; and  the  gray-blue 


4 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


ocean  is  merged  with  the  gray -blue  sky  in  one  sensa- 
tion of  unfathomable  globular  monotony.  At  last,  one 
morning,  if  the  sky  is  blue,  you  discover  a mysterious 
phantom  — a small,  white  cone  standing  in  the  midst 
of  the  ocean.  As  you  approach,  the  cone  rises  higher 
and  swells  visibly,  till,  at  last,  it  looms  up  as  a shapely 
mountain  top.  It  is  Fuji,  the  sacred  mountain  of 
Japan,  whose  snowy  crown  pierces  the  celestial  blue 
at  a height  of  almost  three  miles  above  the  ocean, 
whence  you  see  it.  Yet,  at  first,  the  globe’s  rotundity 
had  made  it  appear  to  rise  but  a foot  above  the  sea. 
For  hours  the  pilot  steers  straight  for  that  snowy  land- 
mark, which  seems  to  grow  larger  and  larger,  like  an 
avalanche  rolling  toward  us.  In  the  hazy  atmosphere  its 
base  is  invisible,  so  that  the  snow  cone  continues  to  float 
in  a gray  ocean  of  air,  even  after  the  peaks  and  ridges 
of  surrounding  mountain  ranges  have  come  dimly  into 
view,  confirming  our  approach  to  land,  and  giving  us  a 
standard  wherewith  to  measure  the  grandeur  of  Fuji. 

Such  was  my  day-dream  — a dream  which  youthful 
experiences  among  the  snow  cones  of  Oregon  made  it 
easy  for  my  imagination  to  realize  vividly.  But  alas! 
it  was  to  remain  a pleasure  of  the  imagination.  Our 
blue  sky  had  turned  gray  as  we  neared  rainy  Japan, 
and  Fuji  was  invisible.  I had  to  console  myself  with 
the  malicious  satisfaction  that  few  visitors  to  Japan 
have  had  better  luck.  Captain  Marshall,  of  the  steam- 
ship Abyssinia , told  Mabel  Loomis  Todd  that  “enter- 
ing Yokohama  harbor  very  frequently,  during  nearly 
twenty  years,  he  had  but  twice  seen  clearly  this  great 
landmark.”  In  this  respect  a ticket  to  Japan  is  a lot- 
tery ticket ; and  the  worst  of  it  is  that  a second  ticket 
would  cost  another  1350  and  involve  a return  trip  of 


TO  JAPAN  VIA  HAWAII 


5 


9000  miles  more.  Nor  could  you  obviate  this  by  sail- 
ing, say,  on  a yacht  or  fishing  boat  from  Yokohama  till 
Fuji  was  out  of  sight,  and  then  returning.  You  would, 
indeed,  in  that  case  have  Fuji  revealed  to  your  eyes 
gradually,  but  it  would  not  be  the  same  ocular  feast 
without  the  preceding  ocular  fast. 

Yet  even  without  Fuji  and  under  a leaden  sky,  the 
approach  to  Japan  is  fascinating.  To  me  the  first  sight 
of  land  on  the  voyage  between  Europe  and  America  is 
always  a fresh  delight,  a thrill  which  repetition  does 
not  weaken.  How  much  keener,  therefore,  must  be 
the  sensation  of  catching  the  first  glimpse  of  a country 
a journey  to  which  tourists  have  united  in  declaring  to 
be  like  a visit  to  another  planet.  Look  at  the  map  — 
readers  of  travel  sketches  should  always  have  a map  at 
hand ; it  makes  everything  so  much  more  definite  and 
impressive  — and  note,  first  the  large  bay,  then  the 
smaller  one,  which  it  takes  the  steamer  several  hours  to 
traverse  before  Yokohama  is  reached.  At  the  entrance 
to  the  large  bay,  just  half-way  between  the  promonto- 
ries on  the  right  and  left,  lies  the  island  of  Oshirna, 
formerly  a convict  settlement,  guarded  by  a volcano 
whose  constant  smoke  threatens  an  eruption  on  the 
slightest  provocation.  It  forms  a fine  background  to 
the  scenery  left  of  the  steamer’s  course,  while  the  prom- 
ontory to  our  right  is  adorned  with  curious  villages, 
wonderfully  green  hillsides,  and  one  of  those  fine  light- 
houses of  which  the  government  has  erected  a hundred 
on  this  dangerous  coast  within  the  last  quarter  of  a 
century.  The  guide  book  assures  us  that  here  “ luxuri- 
ant beds  of  jonquils  and  other  flowers  abound  near  the 
seashore,  and  fill  the  air  with  their  fragrance  at 
Christmas  time.” 


6 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


“ You  would  have  to  travel  far  in  China  to  find  such 
scenery  as  this,”  a German  passenger  residing  at  Shang- 
hai said  to  me,  as  we  made  our  way  up  the  bay.  I 
assured  him  he  need  not  have  limited  his  comparison 
to  China.  Nor  was  it  the  landscape  alone  that  feasted 
the  starved  eyes ; the  ocean  itself  had  lost  its  ruffled 
monotony,  and  was  now  a smooth  mirror  of  gay  Orien- 
tal life.  During  the  four  or  five  hours  that  it  took  us 
to  steam  up  the  bay,  with  slackened  speed,  we  passed 
several  Japanese  coasting  steamers  and  innumerable 
smaller  vessels,  fishing  boats  mostly,  with  large  white 
sails,  junks  of  various  sizes,  going  out  to  fish  in  the 
Kuro  Siwo  — the  warm,  black  ocean  current  which 
traverses  the  cold  Pacific  all  the  way  to  Alaska  and 
down  to  California,  modifying  the  climate  of  our  Pacific 
coast.  In  centuries  past  many  a Japanese  junk  has 
been  carried  across  the  Pacific  by  this  400-mile  wide 
current,  whence  the  not  improbable  inference  that 
America  was  originally  peopled  by  the  Japanese.  The 
faces  of  the  Pacific  coast  Indians,  from  Alaska  to  Ore- 
gon, certainly  bear  a striking  resemblance  to  the  lower- 
class  Japanese  physiognomy,  and  there  are  not  a few 
customs  (notably  those  of  carrying  infants  on  the  back 
and  of  walking  with  the  toes  in)  that  suggest  a common 
origin.  If  this  theory  be  accepted,  the  Japanese  would 
be  the  “only  genuine  and  original  Americans” — which 
is  the  first  of  the  innumerable  paradoxes  we  shall  find 
on  Japanese  soil. 

Distant  Japan  is  linked  to  America  by  the  two 
further  curious  circumstances  that  it  is  indirectly 
responsible  for  the  discovery  of  America,  and  that  it 
was  the  American  Commodore  Perry  who  re-discovered 
Japan.  It  was  the  tales  of  Marco  Polo  about  a myste- 


TO  JAPAN  VIA  HAWAII 


7 


rious  gold  country,  named  Jipangu,  that  fired  the  zeal 
of  Columbus  to  start  on  his  voyage  of  discovery ; and 
it  was  through  the  diplomatic  shrewdness  and  perse- 
verance of  Perry  (fortified  by  his  gunboats)  that  J apan 
was  opened  up  to  the  world  in  1853,  after  it  had  been 
hermetically  closed  for  more  than  two  centuries,  except 
at  a small  island  off  Nagasaki,  where  a few  Dutchmen 
were  kept  as  a sort  of  European  menagerie.  It  may 
be  that,  as  Professor  Chamberlain  bluntly  puts  it, 
“ Perry  triumphed  by  frightening  the  weak,  ignorant, 
utterly  unprepared,  and  insufficiently  armed  Japanese 
out  of  their  senses.”  But  I,  for  one,  shall  not  blame 
him  ; for  from  the  tourist’s  point  of  view  — the  only 
one  I am  bound  to  recognize  — he  did  a great  thing 
when  he  opened  this  stubborn  old  pearl  oyster,  and 
gave  everybody  a chance  to  see  the  pearl,  though  it 
was  rather  cruel  to  the  oyster. 

Perry’s  expedition  is  still  recalled  by  the  names  of 
Treaty  Point,  Mississippi  Bay,  and  Perry  Island,  which 
are  pointed  out  to  the  passengers.  As  soon  as  we  enter 
the  inner  bay,  we  catch  sight,  to  the  left,  of  Yokohama, 
which  was  a mere  fishing  village  in  Perry’s  day,  but  is 
now  the  chief  foreign  port,  with  a mixed  population  of 
122,000  inhabitants.  The  nearer  we  get  to  it,  the 
denser  becomes  the  throng  of  vessels,  among  which  we 
have  to  pick  our  wa}^  slowly  — vessels  of  all  sizes,  from 
the  huge  war-ships  of  various  nations,  nearly  always 
lying  anchored  there,  to  the  local  sampans,  which  crowd 
around  us,  and  which  are  sculled  by  dark-skinned 
natives  in  various  stages  of  undress.  Some  wear  only 
a sort  of  blouse  of  blue  cotton  ; others,  only  a pair  of 
trousers.  The  small  boys  have  no  use  for  any  sort 
of  covering ; and  it  is  easy  to  guess  that  the  men,  too, 


8 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


would  not  encumber  themselves  with  any  were  they 
not  compelled  to  do  so  by  laws  enacted  since  the 
advent  of  foreigners.  Some  of  the  boats  we  passed 
carried  the  female  members  of  families  too,  engaged  in 
cooking,  eating,  or  other  domestic  occupation,  while 
the  wind  or  oars  were  carrying  them  to  the  fishing 
grounds.  Products  of  the  farm  and  garden  filled  up 
some  of  the  other  junks.  We  just  missed  coming  into 
closer  contact  with  the  natives ; for  hardly  had  we  cast 
our  anchor,  a mile  from  shore,  when  some  of  the  boats 
came  alongside.  A rope  ladder  with  a hook  was  fas- 
tened by  means  of  a long  pole  to  the  deck  railing,  and 
the  coolies  began  clambering  up  like  monkeys.  Just 
then  our  quartermaster  came  along,  seized  the  hook, 
and  compelled  the  coolies  to  choose  between  a hasty 
retreat  and  a plunge  into  the  bay0  It  looked,  for  all 
the  world,  like  an  attack  by  pirates,  except  that  our 
assailants  were  unarmed,  and  probably  had  the  most 
peaceful  wage-earning  intentions. 


YOKOHAMA  — FOREIGN  AND  NATIVE 


BABY  CARRIAGES  FOR  ADULTS HALF-WAY  HOUSE  TO  JAPAN 

BARBERS  AND  BAR-ROOMS THE  BUND  AND  THE 

BLUFF CLUBS SCARCITY  OF  FOREIGN  WOMEN STAR- 
ING AT  FOREIGNERS  YOUNG  BEGGARS  ORIENTAL 

BOWERY  SHOWS QUEER  MUSIC GODOWNS  AND  GREEN 

TEA AN  APOLOGY  FOR  YOKOHAMA 

The  two  largest  “ foreign  ” hotels  in  Yokohama  send 
their  own  steam  launches  to  meet  the  steamers  and  bring 
passengers  ashore.  Getting  into  one  of  these,  we  were 
soon  on  Asiatic  soil.  The  custom-house  officers  did 
not  detain  me  a minute,  as  I was  luckily  provided  with 
one  of  the  thousand  invitations  extended  during  the 
exhibition  year  to  “distinguished  visitors  ” from  abroad. 
There  was  nothing  Asiatic  in  hotel  launches  or  custom- 
house officers,  but  our  next  experience  was  specifically 
Japanese.  Had  we  landed  ignorant  of  native  customs, 
we  should  have  looked  about  for  a conveyance  to  take 
us  and  our  baggage  to  the  hotel ; we  should  have  been 
disgusted  not  to  find  a single  cab  or  ’bus,  and  wondered 
what  that  long  row  of  two-wheeled  baby  carriages  was 
there  for,  with  men  between  the  shafts.  Did  they 
expect  a shipload  of  infants  from  America  ? Our  aston- 
ishment would  have  increased  on  seeing  our  fellow-pas- 
sengers— sober  adult  men  and  women  — get  into  these 
baby  carriages  and  trot  off  with  a rnan-horse  between 

9 


10 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


the  shafts,  as  if  it  were  the  most  self-evident  thing  in 
the  world. 

Fortunately  we  were  posted,  not  only  in  regard  to 
these  man-power  carriages  (jinrikishas,  as  the  Chinese 
word  is,  or  kurumas,  as  the  Japanese  more  musically 
call  them),  but  even  in  regard  to  the  ways  and  tricks 
of  the  two-legged  horses  who  draw  them,  and  I was 
thus  able  to  astonish  at  least  one  native  before  I had 
been  on  shore  fifteen  minutes.  Getting  into  a kuruma, 
I said  “ Grand  Hotel  ” in  purest  Japanese  accents.  The 
intelligent  kurumaya  understood  me  perfectly,  turned 
to  the  left,  and  started  down  the  Bund,  as  the  beautiful 
wide  street  facing  the  ocean  is  called,  past  cosy  private 
residences  and  fine  curio  stores,  soon  reaching  the  Grand 
Hotel.  Here  I handed  him  ten  cents  (the  legal  fare 
for  an  hour,  and  I had  used  him  only  five  minutes). 
He  held  the  coin  in  his  hand,  looked  at  it  and  at  me 
with  well-feigned  astonishment,  and  exclaimed,  “Ten 
sen?”  in  a tone  of  injured  innocence.  I paid  no  atten- 
tion to  him  whatever,  and  moved  towards  the  hotel 
door.  Turning  again  after  a few  steps,  I found  him 
getting  ready  to  go,  with  a resigned  expression  on  his 
face,  of  “ Well,  that  fellow  has  evidently  been  in  Japan 
before.” 

Yokohama  is  a sort  of  u half-way  house”  to  Japan. 
You  might  live  in  its  foreign  settlement  a year  without 
seeing  a Japanese  house,  eating  a Japanese  meal,  or 
knowing  as  much  of  native  life  and  sights  as  you  might 
learn  of  Chinese  life  by  an  hour’s  visit  to  Chinatown  in 
San  Francisco.  The  Grand  Hotel  typifies  this  situation. 
A long  two-story  stone  building,  it  is  in  Japan,  but  not 
of  Japan.  It  has  rooms  with  foreign  furniture  and 
beds,  carpeted  parlors  with  a hotel  piano,  a foreign 


KURUMA 


YOKOHAMA  — FOREIGN  AND  NATIVE 


11 


office,  billiard  and  bar-room,  a barber  shop,  separate 
foreign  bath  rooms,  and  a spacious  dining  room,  with 
scores  of  small  tables  on  which  are  served  dishes  cooked 
in  foreign  style  and  eaten  with  knife,  fork,  and  spoon. 
The  tea  is  foreign  (Chinese  or  Indian)  and  is  taken  in 
the  barbarous  foreign  way,  with  milk  and  sugar.  But 
the  waiters  — called  “ boys,”  as  everywhere  in  the  East 
— are  Japanese,  and  know  very  little  English;  where- 
fore all  the  dishes  are  ordered,  like  the  wines  in  our 
own  restaurants,  by  their  numbers.  “European”  wines 
are  obtainable  in  Yokohama  hotels  and  restaurants, 
Europe  being,  as  the  reader  is  doubtless  aware,  situated 
in  California.  Some  of  the  leading  San  Francisco  wine- 
houses  have  agencies  in  Yokohama.  The  Japanese 
take  naturally  to  foreign  wines  and  are  especially  par- 
tial to  champagne,  which,  however,  few  can  afford  to 
drink  at  their  own  expense.  The  amusing  incidents 
related  in  Perry’s  account  of  his  expedition  show  that 
the  Japanese  took  to  the  exhilarating  sparkling  wine  as 
ducks  to  water. 

The  hotel  bar-room  is  entirely  American  in  appear- 
ance, and  here  you  can  get  all  the  American  mixed 
drinks,  at  American  prices.  American  treating  is  cus- 
tomary, and  is  rendered  still  more  of  a temptation  and 
nuisance  by  the  use  of  “chits,”  or  slips  of  paper  on 
which  drinks  are  recorded  with  the  drinker’s  signa- 
ture, the  bill  to  be  settled  once  a month,  or  whenever 
convenient. 

The  hotel  barber  is  less  prosperous  than  the  bar- 
keeper. The  one  who  shaved  me  complained  that  he 
was  patronized  only  by  the  new  arrivals,  and  that  most 
of  these  soon  followed  the  example  of  the  foreign  resi- 
dents, who  engage  a Japanese  barber  to  come  to  their 


12 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


room  every  morning  to  shave  them,  cut  their  hair  when- 
ever necessary,  and  take  care  of  their  hands  and  feet  — 
all  for  one  dollar  a month ! 

It  is  not  only  in  shaving  and  shampooing  that  the 
foreign  residents  in  Japan  economize  by  relying  on  the 
natives.  A kuruma  costs  seventy  cents  a day,  but  if  you 
engage  your  own  man,  the  expense  is  only  $10  a month, 
on  which  the  kurumaya  can  easily  support  his  family 
on  fish  and  rice : fortunately  he  needs  no  hay  or  oats, 
for  in  his  sphere  every  man  is  his  own  horse.  Should 
you  want  a real  horse  and  carriage,  you  would  be 
charged  $5  a day,  but  by  paying  $30  a month  you  can 
have  your  own  horse  and  carriage,  besides  a betto,  or 
runner,  who  always  accompanies  the  horse.  Real 
horses  and  carriages  are,  however,  little  used  except 
for  pleasure-driving  and  the  display  of  wealth ; for 
business  purposes  everybody  uses  the  kuruma. 

I have  just  said  that  one  might  live  a year  in  Yoko- 
hama without  seeing  much  of  J apanese  life ; nor  need 
one  remain  shut  up  in  a hotel  to  attain  this  undesirable 
result.  The  streets  of  the  foreign  settlement  are  abso- 
lutely un- Japanese,  except  as  regards  the  displays  of 
tempting  curios  and  works  of  art  in  the  large  windows. 
Otherwise  you  will  see  just  what  you  see  in  our  own 
towns  of  from  20,000  to  50,000  inhabitants,  — stone 
sidewalks,  solid  stone  buildings  of  one  or  two  stories, 
drug  stores,  groceries,  haberdashers,  bookstores  with 
the  latest  English,  French,  and  German  novels,  and 
so  on. 

The  handsomest  street  in  Yokohama  is  the  Bund,  on 
which  every  visitor  takes  his  first  kuruma  ride.  It 
ends  at  the  Grand  Hotel;  and  as  no  houses  are  built  on 
its  ocean  side,  it  presents  everywhere  a fine  view  of  the 


YOKOHAMA  — FOREIGN  AND  NATIVE 


13 


harbor,  with  its  international  mixture  of  American, 
English,  German,  French,  and  other  men-of-war,  Japan- 
ese junks,  sampans,  and  yachts.  The  one  row  of  houses 
on  the  Bund  sublimely  illustrates  man’s  confidence  in 
his  luck.  Yokohama  and  the  neighboring  Tokyo  have 
about  fifty  earthquake  shocks  a year.  True,  most  of 
them  are  insignificant,  but  the  experiences  of  1894 
showed  that  they  will,  on  occasion,  knock  over  a for- 
eign-style building  like  a card-house.1  Nevertheless, 
the  houses  on  the  Bund  and  on  Main  Street  are  all  of 
stone  and  often  two  stories  high,  whereas  the  more 
wary  Japanese  build  their  dwellings  of  the  lightest 
possible  materials,  — wood,  bamboo,  paper.  Typhoons, 
too,  annually  visit  these  shores;  and  only  a few  years 
ago  a tidal  wave  at  Kobe  lifted  up  a steamer,  and  left 
it  high  and  dry  on  the  beach.  Yet  the  Yokohama 
Bund  is  so  close  to  the  ocean  that  the  waves  often  dash 

1 During  my  stay  in  the  third  story  of  the  Tokyo  Hotel  I experi- 
enced two  earthquake  shocks.  They  were  so  slight  that  I should 
hardly  have  noticed  them  had  it  not  been  for  the  moving  to  and  fro  of 
the  mirror  on  the  wall.  I do  not  know  whether  to  envy  or  to  pity  the 
witness  of  the  terrible  earthquake  at  Gifu,  whose  experiences  are 
described  in  the  Japan  Mail  of  Nov.  21,  1891.  The  following  is  cer- 
tainly one  of  the  most  graphic  little  pen  pictures  of  an  earthquake 
ever  written:  “He  had  just  finished  dressing  when  the  first  shock 
came.  . . . He  crawled  and  dragged  himself  out  of  the  house,  for  to 
walk  was  next  to  impossible.  The  next  moment,  so  highly  strung 
were  his  nerves,  he  burst  into  laughter  at  seeing  the  remarkable  way 
a girl  was  moving  down  the  garden  path,  lifting  her  legs  high  into  the 
air,  as  it  seemed.  Then,  looking  over  his  shoulders,  he  saw  a great 
and  ancient  temple,  which  he  had  been  admiring  the  previous  day, 
leap  into  the  air  and  fall  in  dreadful  ruin.  Looking  again  to  his  front, 
the  whole  town  was  in  an  instant  swept  away  before  his  eyes,  and 
out  of  the  great  cloud  of  white  dust  came  a screaming,  gesticulating, 
wildly  frantic  crowd  of  men,  women,  and  children,  rushing  hither  and 
thither,  they  knew  not  where,  for  refuge  from  the  great  destruction 
which  had  come  upon  them.” 


14 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


into  the  middle  of  the  street,  and  create  sad  havoc  with 
it.  One  afternoon  in  September,  as  I was  sitting  on 
the  Grand  Hotel  piazza,  I heard  feminine  screams. 
Looking  up  the  Bund,  I saw  a party  of  ladies  on 
kurumas,  being  drenched  by  the  ocean  spray,  although 
the  runners  were  as  close  to  the  houses  as  they  could 
get.  That  night  the  solid  hotel  shook  and  trembled 
like  a ship,  from  the  force  of  the  wind;  and  in  the 
morning  I found  that  many  of  the  stone  posts  lining 
the  ocean  side  of  the  Bund  had  been  washed  out 
and  upturned  by  the  angry  waves. 

We  consider  the  Japanese  topsy-turvy  in  many  ways, 
but  in  one  respect  the  foreigners  at  Yokohama  beat  the 
natives  on  their  own  ground.  They  have  numbered 
all  the  houses  in  the  settlement  continuously,  regard- 
less of  street  names.  Thus,  if  you  wish  to  go  to  the 
English  Club,  you  simply  say,  “No.  5 ” to  your  kuruma 
man;  if  the  Germania  Club  is  your  goal,  “No.  235” 
will  take  you  there.  Just  as  London  and  New  York 
firms  will  often  give  their  cable  address  in  their  adver- 
tisements, so  it  is  customary  in  Yokohama  to  print  the 
“ ’Riksliaw  ” address.  One  bank,  for  instance,  is  “ ni  • 
ban,”  another  “hachi-jiu  ban.”  The  bank,  of  course, 
is  the  first  place  you  will  visit,  in  order  to  get  Japanese 
money,  which,  luckily,  is  identical  with  our  own,  a yen 
being  a dollar,  a sen  a cent,  and  the  coins  similar  in 
size  and  appearance  to  our  own.  Formerly  every 
Daimyo,  or  provincial  nobleman,  had  his  own  paper 
money;  but  those  good  old  times  are  no  more.  But 
foreigners  are  still  pleased  on  finding  that  they  can  buy 
a dollar’s  worth  of  Japanese  money  for  fifty  or  sixty 
cents. 

Club  life  plays  a very  prominent  rdle  in  Yokohama, 


YOKOHAMA  — FOREIGN  AND  NATIVE 


15 


partly  owing  to  the  fact  that  so  many  of  the  residents 
have  no  family  ties.  The  English  Club  is  affiliated 
with  similar  organizations  in  other  cities  in  Japan  and 
in  China  and  India,  whose  members  are  admitted  to 
all  privileges  while  visiting  Yokohama.  The  German 
Club  is  thoroughly  Teutonic,  being  partly  social,  partly 
musical.  Here,  in  winter,  they  have  a series  of  con- 
certs, theatricals,  and  balls,  at  which,  however,  the  fair 
sex  is  always  in  a grievous  minority.  The  scarcity  of 
women  is  the  moral  bane  of  these  foreign  communities 
in  the  East.  It  leads  to  concubinage  and  greater  evils. 
The  local  “ Yoshiwara”  contains  the  finest  buildings  in 
the  city.  The  road  to  Mississippi  Bay  also  is  lined 
with  tea-houses,  where  merry  girls  invite  passers-by  to 
a cup  of  tea  or  rice  wine. 

The  residences  of  the  well-to-do  foreigners  at  Yoko- 
hama are  picturesquely  situated  on  the  Bluff,  many  of 
them  being  surrounded  by  luxurious  gardens,  with 
glorious  views  of  the  blue  ocean  on  one  side  and  snowy 
Fuji  on  the  other.  These  three  main  parts  of  the  for- 
eign settlement  — the  Bluff,  the  Bund,  and  Main  Street 
— are  as  sharply  marked  off  from  the  Japanese  division 
of  Yokohama,  by  far  the  greater  part,  as  the  brown 
river  Ottawa  is  for  miles  after  it  enters  the  green  St. 
Lawrence.  Will  the  European  current  ever  visibly 
alter  the  color  of  the  broad  Asiatic  stream  ? Possibly, 
for  the  Japanese  are  wonderful  imitators  and  assimila- 
tors.  Centuries  ago  they  borrowed  most  of  the  oddities 
and  all  of  the  idiotities  (if  I may  coin  the  word)  of 
their  customs  from  the  Chinese,  and  they  have  during 
the  last  forty  years  learned  an  enormous  amount  from 
Europe  and  America;  witness,  for  instance,  their  amaz- 
ingly modern  war  against  mediaeval  China.  Neverthe- 


16 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


less,  one  can  to  this  day  spend  hours  in  the  native  part 
of  Yokohama  without  being  reminded  of  the  foreign 
invasion  and  the  neighboring  European  and  American 
settlement.  The  homes  and  habits,  the  dress  and  food, 
the  employments  and  amusements,  of  the  natives  are 
here  almost  exactly  what  they  were  before  Commodore 
Perry  awakened  the  country  from  its  long  slumbers. 
They  have  not  even  become  accustomed  yet  to  the  sight 
of  foreigners,  especially  if  women  are  of  the  party.  W e 
found  that  if  we  walked  along  with  the  crowds  of  men 
and  women  that  fill  the  main  street  till  midnight,  every 
one  stared  at  us,  and  many  stopped  to  look  after  us. 
If  we  stood  still  a moment  to  look  at  anything,  they 
immediately  formed  a circle  about  us,  which  soon 
became  so  dense,  that  it  was  difficult  to  break  through 
it.  There  was  no  rude  staring  or  jostling,  no  insulting 
comment,  but  simply  the  childish  curiosity  with  which 
we  gaze  at  a monkey  or  an  elephant.  But  we  had  not 
expected  this  in  the  oldest  and  largest  foreign  port  in 
Japan. 

The  only  real  annoyance  came  from  the  young  beg- 
ging children.  It  has  been  said  that  there  are  few  or 
no  beggars  in  J apan,  and  that  the  government  and  pri- 
vate charity  allow  no  one  to  starve.  I have  also  read 
of  raids  being  made  on  beggars,  and  their  being  sent 
back  by  the  police  to  their  homes  in  other  towns.  All 
I know  personally  is  that  these  young  beggars  were 
numerous,  and  that  they  had  an  exasperating  obstinacy 
and  pertinacity  that  a Spanish  beggar  might  have 
envied.  They  repeat  their  monotonous  request  a hun- 
dred times,  and  if  you  lower  your  umbrella  on  one  side 
to  shut  out  the  sight  of  them,  they  run  to  the  other  side 
and  plague  you  another  few  minutes.  Here,  as  else- 


BEGGARS 


YOKOHAMA  — FOREIGN  AND  NATIVE 


17 


where,  the  offensive  beggars  are  not  those  who  deserve 
alms. 

Japanese  Yokohama  has  a street  which  might  be 
compared  to  the  Bowery  of  New  York,  or  even  to  its 
Coney  Island  counterpart.  It  is  a sort  of  dime-museum 
and  cheap  theatre  street,  crowded  all  the  evening  by 
natives  of  the  lower  class,  newly  arrived  foreigners  of 
all  classes,  and  foreign  sailors  with  their  girls.  The 
Japanese  pay  only  one  cent  for  admission,  while  for- 
eigners are  charged  ten,  without  being  accorded  superior 
accommodations;  nor  is  there  any  injustice  in  this,  for 
we  earn  ten  cents  as  easily  as  these  people  earn  one 
cent.  The  nature  of  the  show  is  sometimes  indicated 
by  pictures  outside,  while  in  other  booths  a method  is 
resorted  to  like  that  of  our  sensational  story-papers  of 
which  one  number,  breaking  off  in  the  midst  of  a blood- 
curdling scene,  is  distributed  free,  with  the  notice  “ to 
be  continued  in  the  next  number,”  which  is  not  free. 
One  man  raises  a curtain  till  some  striking  scene  within 
is  half-revealed,  whereupon  the  curtain  is  quickly 
dropped,  while  a noisy  crier  tells  what  is  going  on 
within.  We  entered  some  of  the  shows.  In  the  first 
we  saw  the  common  circus  trick  of  men  balancing 
themselves  on  moving  globes  of  various  sizes.  In  an- 
other, a large  woman  was  put  into  a small  barrel,  where- 
upon four  swords  were  run  through  it  in  all  directions, 
and  a spear  down  through  the  middle.  After  these 
were  withdrawn  the  woman  popped  up  fresh  and  smil- 
ing, as  badly  painted  and  powdered  as  before.  In  one 
of  the  shows  the  wonders  of  electric  light,  telephone, 
phonograph,  and  so  on,  were  exhibited  to  gaping  natives. 
W e also  saw  a poor  crippled  girl,  without  hands  or  feet, 
sitting  on  a table,  holding  in  her  mouth  a pencil,  with 


18 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


which  she  drew  very  fair  pictures  of  ships  and  animals. 
Then  she  took  a stick  in  her  mouth  and,  with  the  aid 
of  her  stumps  of  arms  and  legs,  made  a paper-boat. 
After  her  came  an  idiotic-looking  individual  with  a 
heavy  sack  on  his  shoulders,  spinning  around  like  a top, 
evidently  having  not  enough  brains  to  get  dizzy  with. 
The  funniest  of  the  sights  was  a wrestling  match 
between  a young  boy  and  a girl,  whose  legs  were  as  fat 
as  the  waists  of  ordinary  boys  and  girls  of  their  age. 
They  knocked  each  other  over  every  time,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  audience. 

The  music  accompanying  these  performances  was 
much  more  of  a novelty  than  the  tricks.  We  heard  a 
blind  samisen  player,  who  evidently  adapted  his  style 
to  his  usual  audience,  indulging  in  all  sorts  of  vulgar 
tricks  with  his  banjo-like  instrument.  After  playing 
awhile  in  the  proper  way,  he  would  invert  the  instru- 
ment and  continue  the  tune ; then  he  put  the  plectron 
under  the  strings  to  shorten  them,  following  this  up 
with  some  glissando  effects.  Finally,  he  played  with  a 
short  bow,  which  sounded  much  more  musical  than 
when  he  plucked  the  strings.  He  was  frequently  ap- 
plauded, hand-clapping  being  one  of  the  foreign  cus- 
toms readily  adopted  by  the  Japanese.  In  the  larger 
shows  there  was  a regular  band,  on  a platform  nearest 
the  street.  The  players  were  mostly  females,  and  their 
instruments  were  as  picturesque  as  the  noises  they  made 
were  unique.  Usually  there  was  a sort  of  drum,  a pic- 
colo, a samisen,  with  a similar  instrument,  having  a 
larger  body  and  a shorter  neck  (biwa).  Of  the  bowed 
instruments,  one  had  a body  like  a very  small  drum, 
with  a neck  two  feet  long ; it  was  played  with  a bow  a 
foot  long,  and  much  wider  than  our  double-bass  bows. 


YOKOHAMA  — FOREIGN  AND  NATIVE 


19 


The  Japanese  “ harp,”  or  koto,  was  evidently  too  refined 
and  aristocratic  to  be  used  in  such  a place.  The  gen- 
eral effect  of  this  music  was  somewhat  Moorish  in  tone- 
color  and  in  the  monotonous  repetition  of  the  same 
melodic  phrase.  The  showman  held  a stick  in  each 
hand  with  which  he  rapped  to  indicate  the  end  of  a 
number  ; sometimes,  too,  he  emphasized  the  rhythm  by 
pounding  the  floor  rapidly  with  them,  a rap  for  each  tone. 

After*  these  samples  of  unmitigated  Japanese  music, 
it  was  interesting  to  hear  what  these  people  can  do  with 
European  music.  On  Wednesday  evening  we  found  the 
hotel  dining-room  so  crowded  that  there  was  hardly 
room  for  the  regular  guests.  On  this  evening  the  band 
plays  every  week,  and  many  residents  take  the  opportu- 
nity for  a social  gathering  and  feast.  After  dinner  the 
band  played  on  the  piazza,  and  many  Japanese,  mostly 
women  and  children,  gathered  in  front  to  listen.  What 
they  thought  of  the  music  I do  not  know  ; probably 
they  considered  it  very  funny  and  meaningless.  The 
band  consisted  of  about  twenty  Japanese  youths,  who, 
I was  told,  had  played  together  only  ten  months. 
Making  allowance  for  that,  and  considering  how  utterly 
different  their  music  is  from  ours,  their  performance  of 
marches  and  waltzes  was  not  bad  ; from  any  other  point 
of  view  it  was  crude  and  barrel-organy.  While  the 
band  was  playing,  several  jugglers  exhibited  their 
tricks  on  the  lawn  before  the  hotel ; swallowing 
swords,  performing  balancing  feats,  and  so  on.  These 
came  almost  every  evening.  With  the  aid  of  the  large 
telescope  on  the  piazza  one  can  observe  other  Japanese 
scenes  at  ease  — families  in  fishing1  boats,  or  out  for 
a picnic  ; boys  and  girls  bathing  naked  in  the  bay, 
on  a promontory  to  the  left ; or,  without  telescope, 


20 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


the  various  passers-by,  who  will  usually  reciprocate 
your  curiosity. 

Before  leaving  Yokohama,  one  feels  tempted  to  in- 
vestigate one  of  the  large  goclowns,  or  one-story  stone 
buildings  which  attract  attention  by  their  length  and 
by  their  odor  of  tea,  which  you  can  smell  several  blocks 
off,  like  the  malt  odor  of  our  breweries.  Admission 
to  them  is  not  readily  obtained,  but  the  inside  is  worth 
seeing.  At  the  door  you  hear  a babel  of  feminine 
noises,  recalling  the  cigar  factories  of  Spain.  Here  are 
nearly  a thousand  women  and  girls,  with  bare  arms 
and  bosoms ; but  they  do  not,  like  the  cigareras  of 
Spain,  hastily  cover  up  their  charms  when  a man  enters. 
Each  of  them  bends  over  a kettle  holding  five  pounds 
of  tea,  which  she  stirs  with  her  hands  about  ten  minutes, 
after  mixing  a chemical  powder  with  the  leaves ; then, 
taking  that  portion  out,  five  more  pounds  are  put  in, 
and  the  stirring  is  resumed.  The  summer  heat  in 
Japan  is  great  outside  ; in  a building  it  is  greater  still, 
and  as  there  is  a fire  under  every  one  of  these  kettles, 
you  can  imagine  the  result.  But  the  Japanese  are 
salamanders ; heat  has  no  terror  for  them.  These 
women  and  girls  look  healthy  and  contented,  though 
they  work  ten  hours  a day,  and  receive  only  ten  or 
fifteen  cents  for  it  all.  They  used  to  get  twenty-five 
cents  a day ; but  the  price  of  tea  fell,  and  wages  were 
reduced.  The  employers  told  me  that  they  never 
have  any  trouble  with  these  women,  some  of  whom 
have  stirred  tea-leaves  in  the  same  hot  kettle  for  ten 
years.  Strikes  are  practically  unknown,  and  would  be 
absurd  in  a country  where,  for  every  striker,  there 
would  be  a dozen  to  take  her  place  at  almost  any 
wages.  A cent  an  hour  seems  low,  even  for  an  Oriental 


YOKOHAMA  — FOREIGN  AND  NATIVE 


21 


country ; but  they  manage  to  live  on  it,  and,  strange 
to  say,  would  probably  all  agree  that  life  is  worth 
living. 

In  reviewing  my  impressions  of  Yokohama,  I have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  its  attractions  are  usually 
underrated  by  tourists.  Is  not  the  native  part  of  the 
city  as  quaintly  Oriental  as  any  other  Japanese  town  ? 
Is  not  the  harbor  the  finest  in  the  country?  and  could 
you  find  anywhere  more  picturesquely  perched  resi- 
dences than  those  on  the  Bluff?  In  the  matter  of 
excursions,  too,  Yokohama  is  blessed  beyond  any  other 
harbor  town.  To  name  only  two,  which  no  globe- 
trotter omits:  Kamakura,  “the  Japanese  Babylon,”  once 
a city  of  a million  souls,  now  a village  noted  for  its 
Daibutsu,  or  statue  of  Buddha,  fifty  feet  in  height,  a 
grand  work  of  art;  and  Enoshima,  the  “Japanese 
Capri,”  noted  for  its  shells,  divers,  sponges,  monstrous 
lobsters,  its  sacred  cave  one  hundred  and  twenty-four 
yards  deep,  and  its  legend  of  Benten,  the  dragon  goddess. 
It  would  be  foolish  to  attempt  to  describe  these  places 
again,  after  it  has  been  done  so  poetically  and  artis- 
tically by  Mr.  Griffis,  Sir  Edwin  Arnold,  Mr.  Robert 
Blum,  Mr.  John  La  Farge,  and  others. 

But  the  most  interesting  excursion  is  from  Yokohama 
to  Tokyo,  the  new  capital  of  Japan ; and  this  every  one 
is  at  liberty  to  write  about,  as  its  kaleidoscopic  views 
of  Oriental  life  are  inexhaustibly  novel  and  varied, 
presenting  fresh  aspects  to  every  fresh  pair  of  eyes. 


RAILWAY  AND  KURUMA 


AMERICA  IN  JAPAN LOCOMOTIVES  AND  NATIVES A 

TYPICAL  STATION CLOG  DANCE A EURASIAN  HOTEL 

A POLITE  CLERK A PLEA  FOR  LEMONS A QUIET 

CITY BIRD’S-EYE  VIEW HILLS  AND  PARKS TRAITS 

OF  KURUMA  COOLIES WHAT  IS  DEGRADING  WORK  ? 

Before  1872  there  were  no  railways  in  Japan,  and 
trips  to  Kamakura,  Tokyo,  and  so  on,  could  be  comfort- 
ably made  only  by  kuruma  or  on  horseback.  To-day 
Japan  lias  almost  two  thousand  miles  of  railroad.  The 
lirst  built  was  the  short  line  of  eighteen  miles  between 
Yokohama  and  Tokyo.  It  carries  us  to  the  capital  in 
less  than  an  hour.  By  taking  it  we  miss  the  busy 
multiple  scenes  of  Japanese  life  which  the  kuruma 
rider  could  formerly  enjoy  on  his  leisurely  run  along 
the  old  road  known  as  the  Tokaido.  But  the  view 
from  the  car-window  includes  Fuji  on  one  side,  the 
Bay  of  Tokyo  studded  Avith  sails  on  the  other,  and 
there  are  plenty  of  genre  pictures  of  village  life  near 
the  stations,  while  the  rural  stretches  are  varied  Avith 
orchards,  vegetable  gardens,  rank  bamboo  groA^es,  and 
flooded  rice-fields  Avith  stooping  men  and  women  pull- 
ing up  the  Aveeds  or  transplanting  the  young  crop.  To 
foreigners  residing  in  Tokyo  a feAv  Aveeks  or  months, 
this  railway  is  a great  convenience,  as  they  somehow 
seem  to  find  it  necessary  to  run  over  to  Yokohama 


RAILWAY  AND  KURUMA 


23 


every  other  day,  either  to  replenish  their  purses  at  the 
banks,  or  to  procure  some  of  the  conveniences  and  luxu- 
ries to  which  they  are  accustomed,  and  which  are  less 
accessible  in  Tokyo,  where  the  number  of  foreigners  is 
not  large  enough  to  be  specially  catered  to.  To  return 
to  Yokohama  after  residing  in  the  capital  a week  or 
t\vo,  seems  almost  like  annihilating  the  ocean  and  drop- 
ping into  one  of  our  own  cities.  After  an  absence  of 
a month  in  the  interior,  this  illusion  is  so  intensified 
that  one  experiences  quite  an  American  or  European 
emotion  on  seeing  Main  Street  or  the  Bund  again.  To 
me  this  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  experiences  in  Japan, 
because  it  constantly  kept  alive  and  fresh  the  contrast 
between  Occident  and  Orient. 

As  for  the  Japanese,  they  took  readily  and  eagerly  to 
the  cars,  as  to  everything  that  is  new  and  practical. 
The  railroad  to  Tokyo  was  built  by  foreigners,  and  was 
at  first  run  by  them,  the  engineers  and  conductors  being 
English,  the  ticket-sellers  Chinamen.  To-day  every- 
thing is  in  Japanese  hands,  and  all  runs  smoothly,  thus 
nullifying  the  foolish  fears  of  those  foreigners  who, 
when  the  Japanese  first  began  to  take  hold  of  some 
of  their  own  engines,  chose  those  which  still  remained 
in  foreign  hands  whenever  they  took  a trip.  It  is 
related  that  a Spanish  peasant,  on  seeing  for  the  first 
time  a train  in  motion,  looked  on  in  amazement  and 
finally  exclaimed,  u But  where  are  the  mules?”  Many 
similar  scenes  occurred  when  the  Japanese  peasants 
first  sighted  a locomotive.  The  women  used  to  crowd 
around,  and  then  run  away  screaming  when  it  began  to 
puff  and  move.  Here  was  a monster  more  terrible 
than  all  the  dragons  described  in  their  weird  legends  ! 
Every  one  has  heard  of  the  man  who,  after  a late  dinner, 


24 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


was  sent  home  in  a cab,  and  as  soon  as  it  had  started, 
took  off  his  boots,  opened  the  cab  door  and  threw  them 
out  for  the  porter  to  blacken.  The  topsy-turvy  Japan- 
ese of  course  do  soberly  what  we  do  when  we  are  drunk  ; 
at  any  rate,  it  is  related  that  one  day  a peasant,  on 
entering  a car,  took  off  his  wooden  pattens  and  placed 
them  carefully  on  the  station  platform,  expecting  to 
find  them  all  right  on  arriving  in  Tokyo. 

Every  kuruma-pnller  in  Yokohama  understands  the 
word  “station,”  which  has  been  adopted  into  the  lan- 
guage like  many  other  English  words.  If  you  should 
happen  to  be  late  for  the  train,  take  two  pullers,  tell 
them  “ liayaku,”  and  you  will  be  hurried  along  in  your 
“ baby  carriage  with  adult  wheels  ” almost  as  fast  as 
a horse  could  take  you.  If  you  are  wise,  you  will  at 
least  have  memorized  the  phrases  relating  to  travel, 
printed  in  the  little  book  which  some  enterprising  curio 
dealer  has  probably  left  at  your  hotel  door.  But  even 
if  your  ignorance  of  the  language  is  still  exhaustive 
and  symmetrical,  you  will  have  no  difficulty  at  the 
station,  as  the  civil  ticket-sellers  know  more  English 
than  is  necessary  to  understand  your  demand  for  a 
first,  second,  or  third  class  ticket  to  Tokyo. 

The  station  itself  is  worth  inspection.  The  third- 
class  waiting  room  is  very  large,  with  plain  benches. 
The  first-class  is  very  small,  but  has  upholstered  chairs 
and  sofas.  The  second  is  of  medium  size,  and  has  a 
table  in  the  centre,  with  Japanese  and  English  news- 
papers. Although  first-class  is  here  as  cheap  as  third 
is  in  Europe,  almost  all  the  Japanese  travel  third-class. 
The  first  is  used  only  by  a few  high  dignitaries,  while 
the  second  takes  most  of  the  foreigners  and  a consid- 
erable number  of  the  well-to-do  Japanese.  In  one  of 


RAILWAY  AND  IOJRUMA 


25 


the  waiting  rooms  I saw  an  automatic  weighing  ma- 
chine in  the  form  of  a seat,  and  with  a nickel-in-the-slot 
“ cashier  ” ; but  as  the  numerals  were  in  Japanese  char- 
acters only,  I could  not  ascertain  whether  the  climate 
had  begun  yet  to  reduce  me  to  the  dimensions  of  the 
miniature  natives.  The  second-class  cars  are  very  stu- 
pidly arranged  with  seats  along  the  sides,  like  our  horse- 
cars.  Many  of  the  natives  squat  on  these  seats,  with 
their  legs  curled  up  under  them,  instead  of  letting  their 
feet  dangle  down  as  we  do.  There  is  no  bell  rope  con- 
necting the  cars,  and  the  guards,  who  look  like  boys  in 
their  foreign  uniforms,  though  they  are  men,  call  out 
the  names  of  stations  with  genuine  imported  rapidity 
and  indistinctness. 

The  first  vision  of  Tokyo,  as  we  near  the  station, 
suggests  the  railway  yards  and  belching  factory  chim- 
neys of  a western  American  city,  rather  than  the  capital 
of  esthetic  Japan,  and  recalls  Ruskin’s  tirades  against 
railways  as  the  greatest  uglifying  agency  of  modern 
civilization  — an  agency  which  makes  most  American 
towns  and  villages  hideous  with  horrid  sights  and 
noises.  As  soon  as  the  train  stops,  a most  extraordi- 
nary clattering  and  shuffling  sound  assails  the  ear  — a 
sound  which  we  had  heard  at  the  way  stations,  but  only 
as  a mere  hint  of  what  was  to  come  at  the  Shimbashi 
station,  where  several  hundred  third-class  passengers 
were  dumped  at  once  on  the  platform  and  hobbled 
over  the  stone  flooring  with  their  clogs,  which,  held 
fast  by  a thong  passing  between  the  big  toe  and  its 
neighbor,  constitute  their  foot  gear.  It  sounded  like 
a clog  dance  on  a large  scale,  except  that  there  was  no 
rhythmic  accent,  but  mere  clattering,  deafening  chaos. 
It  is  a sound  that  can  be  heard  only  in  Japan,  nor 


26 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


would  it  be  greatly  missed  there.  These  miniature 
stilts  may  be  a great  convenience  in  muddy  streets, 
and  to  facilitate  quick  entrance  into  clean-matted 
houses  without  foot  gear ; but  they  are  exceedingly 
ugly,  and  they  give  the  Japanese  the  most  ungainly 
gait  of  all  nations  in  the  world. 

Outside  the  Shimbashi  station  there  is  a stand  where 
you  can  buy  a kuruma  ticket  to  any  part  of  the  city 
at  a fixed  rate  — a great  convenience  for  greenhorns 
who  cannot  bargain  with  the  coolies.  I took  one  for 
the  Tokyo  Hotel,  which  had  been  recommended  to  me 
as  convenient  and  well  kept , and  so  I found  it.  Toky5 
has  several  kinds  of  hotels  — purely  native,  purely  for- 
eign, and  hybrid.  The  Tokyo  hotel  is  ihodelled  largely 
after  the  foreign  hotels  in  Yokohama,  yet  has  more 
Japanese  features.  After  leaving  the  capital,  I made  it 
a habit  to  go  to  Japanese  inns,  even  where  hotels  in  for- 
eign style  were  available,  because  I wished  to  study  the 
ways  of  the  country ; but  in  Tokyo  there  are  so  many 
other  things  to  see  than  hotels,  that  it  seemed  wiser  to 
stay  where  I could  feel  sure  of  a real  bed  and  foreign 
food,  as  I did  not  yet  know  how  Japanese  food  and  beds 
would  agree  with  me.  It  was  a wise  decision,  which  I 
found  had  also  been  reached  by  Mr.  Henry  Norman, 
who  was  a guest  at  this  hotel  while  collecting  notes  for 
his  graphic  and  truthful  volume  entitled  The  Real 
Japan , and  by  Mr.  Robert  Blum,  who  was  there  to  illus- 
trate Sir  Edwin  Arnold’s  articles  and  one  of  his  books 
on  Japan,  and  Ivho  has  also  contributed  a fascinating 
account  of  his  impressions  to  Scribner  s Magazine , 
showing  Japan,  like  Mr.  John  La  Farge’s  admirable 
articles  in  the  Century , through  an  artist’s  eyes. 

Although  partly  arranged  after  foreign  models,  the 


RAILWAY  AND  KURUMA 


27 


Tokyo  Hotel  contrasts  pleasantly  with  American  hotels 
in  the  courteousness  of  all  the  employees.  One  clay  I 
sat  clown  on  a bench  in  the  office  to  talk  with  the  clerk, 
who  immediately  got  up  and  brought  me  a comfortable 
bamboo  chair.  Imagine  an  American  hotel  clerk  doing 
such  a thing!  Can  you  imagine  it?  Our  Japanese 
clerks  — there  were  two  — were  always  ready  to  give 
us  information  and  hints,  to  give  the  coolies  directions 
where  to  take  us,  to  write  out  addresses  or  telegrams 
for  us  in  Japanese,  and  so  on.  Not  that  it  is  necessary 
to  send  telegrams  in  the  vernacular ; English,  German, 
or  French  may  be  used,  but  then  the  charges  are  five 
cents  a word,  counting  the  address,  while  in  Japanese 
the  address  is  free,  and  the  despatch  costs  a mere 
bagatelle. 

In  the  dining  room  there  is  the  same  prompt  atten- 
tion to  all  wants.  It  is  un  -Japanese  to  have  male  wait- 
ers; but  the  waiters  here  are,  of  course,  Japanese,  and 
they  are  among  the  best  it  has  ever  been  my  good  luck 
to  be  served  by.  My  own  waiter  was  particularly 
prompt  and  attentive,  and  one  clay  I could  hardly  re- 
press my  indignation  when  an  American  bully,  engaged 
in  the  silk  business,  sat  down  at  my  table,  swore  at  the 
waiter,  bossed  him  like  a slave,  and  actually  made  him 
run,  though  there  was  absolutely  no  occasion  for  hurry. 
In  this  case  the  Asiatic  menial  was  infinitely  more  of  a 
gentleman  than  the  American  merchant.  However,  I 
swallowed  my  indignation,  with  the  aid  of  a quart  bottle 
of  Bass’s  ale,  which  always  goes  to  the  right  spot  in 
a hot  climate,  and,  if  taken  conscientiously  twice  a day, 
obviates  all  danger  from  the  Tokyo  drinking  water,  in 
which  often  lurk  the  microbes  of  typhoid,  cholera,  dys- 
entery, and  other  murderous  microscopic  beasts.  I have 


28 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


often  marvelled  at  tlie  ignorant  inconsistency  of  tourists 
in  Spain,  Italy,  and  other  warm  latitudes,  carefully  shut- 
ting out  the  salubrious  night  air,  but  eagerly  quaffing 
the  suspicious  water  on  hotel  tables,  or  even  such  as  is 
offered  by  street  carriers,  whose  habits  and  sources  are 
unknown.  I have  not  seldom  been  in  places  where  I 
thought  it  prudent  to  use  Apollinaris  even  to  brush  my 
teeth  with.  Japan  has  fortunately  a substitute  for  Apol- 
linaris, and  a very  good  one,  which  is,  in  fact,  almost 
identical  with  it.  It  is  called  Hirano  water,  and  is  so 
highly  charged  with  its  own  gas  that  the  bottles  have 
to  be  carefully  handled.  It  makes  the  most  delicious 
lemonade;  but,  unfortunately,  lemons  are  so  scarce  that 
one  has  to  pay  twice  or  thrice  as  much  as  in  America. 
Indeed,  the  scarcity  of  lemons  seemed  to  me  the  most 
deplorable  of  all  the  material  shortcomings  of  Japan. 
I say  this  in  all  seriousness.  The  sultry  summer  cli- 
mate of  Japan  makes  the  craving  for  a refreshing  sour 
drink  almost  irresistible.  In  the  absence  of  cheap  lem- 
ons, the  Japanese  eat  sour  green  fruit,  at  the  expense  of 
their  health.  He  who  would  truly  benefit  these  people, 
should  make  lemons  — or,  better  still,  Mexican  limes  — 
abundant  and  cheap.  They  would  save  thousands  of 
lives,  too,  every  year,  as  the  acid  of  limes  and  lemons 
is  a great  germicide. 

Tokyo  is  anything  but  a pleasant  summer  resort. 
All  those  who  can  afford  it,  leave  for  the  mountains  or 
seashore,  but  as  the  number  of  those  who  can  do  so  is 
very  small  indeed,  the  city  can  hardly  be  called  deserted 
in  July  and  August.  The  Tokyo  Hotel  is  one  of  the 
few  three-storied  buildings  in  the  city,  and  I took  my 
room  on  the  third,  so  as  to  catch  any  stray  breezes  from 
the  bay.  But  they  seemed  to  go  astray  in  other  direc 


RAILWAY  AND  KURUMA 


29 


tions,  or  not  to  exist  at  all,  and  I repeatedly  “ awoke 
after  a sleepless  night  ” to  find  myself  in  a bath  of  per- 
spiration, at  a temperature  not  much  lower  than  that  of 
the  hot  hath  to  which  the  attendant  summoned  me  early 
in  the  morning.  What  lemonade,  tea,  or  beer  is  esoter- 
ically  during  Lotos-Time  in  Japan,  hot  water  is  exoter- 
ically,  and  luckily  the  Tokyo  Hotel  has  given  up  the 
communistic  tank  in  favor  of  the  more  civilized  indi- 
vidual bath  tub. 

Apart  from  the  sultry  nocturnal  heat,  there  is  nothing 
to  prevent  sound  sleep  in  Tokyd.  I believe  that  Richard 
Wagner  is  not  the  only  brain  worker  who  chose  Venice 
for  a temporary  residence,  largely  because  the  absence 
of  horses  makes  it  so  quiet  at  night.  In  Tokyo  horses 
are  almost  as  scarce  as  in  Venice,  and  there  is  this 
farther  advantage  that  the  streets  are  unpaved.  The 
only  sound  that  rises  on  the  air  is  the  melancholy  whis- 
tle of  the  strolling  blind  shampooer,  seeking  a victim 
to  knead  like  a lump  of  dough;  or,  perhaps,  early  in 
the  morning,  the  voices  of  coolies,  passing  under  your 
window  on  their  way  to  their  daily  tasks.  Fiendish 
factory  whistles,  the  blatant  signals  of  American  unciv- 
ilization, never  murder  sleep  and  kill  invalids  in  Japan. 

When  the  wind  blew  from  a certain  quarter,  I could 
faintly  hear  the  military  buglers,  practising  their  fan- 
fares in  the  barracks  not  far  away.  One  of  them  would 
blow  the  melody,  whereupon  twenty  others  would  try 
to  imitate  him,  continuing  till  success  was  achieved. 

After  the  morning  bath  and  breakfast,  — or,  better 
still,  before,  — the  first  daily  act  should  be  to  go  to  the 
roof  of  the  hotel,  and  see  if  Fuji  is  visible.  One  of  the 
great  charms  of  Tokyo  is  the  purity  of  the  air  and  its 
clearness,  due  to  the  fact  that  charcoal  is  almost  the 


30 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


only  fuel  used,  wherefore  there  are  no  thousands  of 
chimneys  belching  out  black  smoke.  But  mountain- 
wards  there  is  usually  a summer  mist;  and  unless  you 
look  daily,  morning  and  evening,  you  may  fail  to  see 
the  sacred  mountain  at  all  from  this. point  of  view. 

To  get  a bird’s-eye  view  of  the  mountainous  sur- 
roundings of  Tokyo,  the  bays  and  the  city  itself,  the 
best  way  is  to  ascend  the  “men’s  staircase”  or  the 
u women’s  staircase  ” to  the  top  of  the  hill  called  Atago- 
yama,  on  which  a tower  lias  been  built.  Looking  down 
on  the  ocean  of  monotonous  gray  roofs,  covering  count- 
less one-story  wooden  buildings,  one  misses,  most  of 
all,  the  picturesque  towers  and  large  buildings  which 
give  variety  to  our  cities.  Obviously,  architectural 
wonders  are  not  to  be  prominent  among  the  things 
that  will  attract  our  attention,  apart  from  a few  Bud- 
dhist temples  with  their  Chinese  pagodas.  From  this 
elevated  view-point  the  city  itself  is,  indeed,  far  less 
attractive  than  its  surroundings  and  its  site.  Wash- 
ington has  been  called  a city  of  magnificent  distances; 
but  our  American  capital  is  in  extension  a mere  village, 
compared  to  the  Japanese  capital,  whose  1,400,000  deni- 
zens inhabit  an  area  of  no  less  than  a hundred  square 
miles,  while  the  5,000,000  Londoners  live  within  an 
area  of  no  more  than  120  square  miles,  and  the  2,000,000 
New-Yorkers  manage  to  find  elbow  room  within  forty 
square  miles.  Yet  we  always  fancy  these  Asiatic  peoples 
to  be  crowded  together  to  suffocation.1 

1 Greater  New  York  will  cover  an  area  of  317  square  miles.  Accord- 
ing to  Professor  Supan  of  Gotha,  there  are  now  in  the  world  twelve 
cities  with  over  a million  souls  each,  ranking  in  the  following  order: 
London,  Paris,  New  York-Brooklyn,  Berlin,  Canton,  Vienna,  Wuchang- 
Hanggang-Hankan,  Tokyo,  Chicago,  Philadelphia,  Siangtan,  Singan. 
Thus  Tokyo  city  ranks  eighth.  The  Tokyo  province  had  1,857,000 


RAILWAY  AND  KTJRUMA 


31 


From  our  tower,  the  difference  between  these  cities 
is  obvious  at  a glance.  In  Tokyo,  every  family  has  its 
own  house,  however  humble , in  New  York,  hundreds 
live  in  a single  building,  and  many  of  our  larger  down- 
town buildings  have  room  for  a thousand  busy  men 
and  women.  One  of  our  sky-scraping  fifteen-story 
New  York  monsters,  suddenly  dropped  into  the  middle 
of  Tokyo,  would  look  a good  deal  like  an  ostrich  in  a 
chicken  yard,  or  a whale  in  a school  of  herring.  Japan 
is  a land  of  small  things,  — a fact  impressed  on  us 
every  minute  during  our  sojourn.  The  settled  part  of 
Philadelphia  covers  more  space  than  that  of  New  York, 
because  it  has  fewer  high  buildings  and  more  private 
residences.  Tokyo  is  a Philadelphia  greatly  exagger- 
ated. It  has  342,000  houses,  — one  for  every  four  or 
five  inhabitants. 

There  is  another  reason  for  Tokyo’s  vast  area.  New 
York  has  one  great  park,  Tokyo  has  many,  — I don’t 
know  how  many,  certainly  a great  many  more  than 
even  London.  The  city  was  originally  a collection  of 
villages,  gradually  subsumed  under  one  name,  and 
luckily  still  separated  by  hills,  gardens,  and  groves. 
On  one  of  these  wooded  hills,  which  make  up  a great 
part  of  Tokyo,  you  might  fancy  yourself  miles  away 
from  all  the  sights  and  noises  of  a city.  I remember 
riding  in  a kuruma  one  day  for  a whole  hour  without 
passing  through  a single  business  street!  Surely,  in 
this  mingling  of  country  and  city,  Tokyo  is  prophetic 
of  what  our  own  cities  will  be  when  our  esthetic  and 
hygienic  wisdom  teeth  are  cut,  and  we  begin  to  value 

souls  in  1894.  The  death  rate  was  only  19.95  as  compared  with  New 
York’s  23  per  thousand.  The  new  waterworks  now  in  course  of 
construction  will  still  further  lower  the  mortality. 


32 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


life  and  nature  more  Ilian  the  eager  chase  of  the 
unenjoyed  dollar. 

For  the  siglit-seer,  the  magnificent  distances  of  Tokyo 
are  not  an  unmixed  blessing,  for  they  imply  a great 
expenditure  of  time.  Steam  railways,  underground  or 
elevated,  there  are  none  within  the  city  itself,  and  the 
one  street  car  line,  with  wretched  mules  and  irregular 
time,  is  not  noted  for  its  fast  time  or  convenience.  Car- 
riages of  any  kind  are  an  anomaly  in  the  narrow,  crowded 
business  streets,  and  can  only  progress  very  slowly. 
There  are  plans  for  widening  the  streets  and  introduc- 
ing electric  cars,  but  that  is  for  the  future.  At  present 
we  must  content  ourselves  with  the  kuruma,  which  I 
am  sure  is  by  far  the  most  convenient  and  comfortable 
of  all  conveyances  for  seeing  an  Asiatic  city.  In  Yoko- 
hama one  has  little  use  for  the  jinrikishas  except  for 
excursions  in  the  neighborhood,  but  in  the  streets  and 
groves  of  vast  Tokyo  you  need  them  all  day  long,  and 
soon  look  on  them  as  a self-evident  mode  of  conveyance, 
which  must  have  existed  ever  since  the  days  of  Adam. 

Most  of  us,  even  if  we  know  Japan  only  superficially 
through  books  and  pictures,  are  apt  to  fancy  that  of  all 
things  the  kuruma  is  most  Japanese.  But  the  kuruma 
was  unknown  in  Japan  a quarter  of  a century  ago.  It 
is  even  probable  that  it  was  invented  by  a foreigner. 
But  the  Japanese  immediately  saw  its  superiority  to 
other  modes  of  conveyance,  and  to-day  Tokyo  has  about 
40,000  of  them,1  which  are  used  by  all  who  can  afford 
to  do  so,  while  to  foreigners,  who  would  be  foolish  to 
risk  walking  in  the  hot  sun,  they  are  indispensable. 

1 The  official  figures  in  1892  were  38,265  kurumas.  In  the  same  year 
Tokyo  had  71  tram  cars,  15  carriages  for  hire,  and  110  vehicles  plying 
in  the  streets,  employing  in  all  1136  horses. 


RAILWAY  AND  KURUMA 


Many  improvements  have  been  made  in  the  kuruma 
since  its  first  invention.  To  judge  by  early  pictures  of 
them  (see,  e.g .,  Griffis’s  Mikado's  Empire , p.  335)  they 
were  not  only  differently  shaped,  but  less  easy  to  get 
into.  In  place  of  the  stuffy,  unfragrant  hoods  of  oiled 
paper,  used  to  keep  off  the  rain,  of  which  Miss  Bird 
complained  so  frequently,  the  improved  kuruma  has  a 
regular  diminutive  carriage  cover,  making  it  look  some- 
what like  a miniature  hansom  without  a driver,  and  with 
a man  between  the  shafts.  It  takes  some  little  time  to 
get  over  the  mixed  feeling  of  pleasure  and  humiliation 
one  experiences  at  first  in  these  little  vehicles  , they  are 
so  comfortable,  and  yet  one  fancies  himself  presenting 
a rather  ludicrous  figure  riding  through  business  streets 
in  a baby  hansom,  drawn  by  a half-naked  coolie.  But, 
as  already  intimated,  that  feeling  soon  passes  away,  while 
the  pleasure  remains  (provided  the  road  is  smooth). 
An  American  lady  said  to  me  that  on  her  first  ride  she 
felt  as  if  she  were  on  the  back  of  an  ostrich,  or  some 
other  two-legged  animal.  The  kuruma  might  also  be 
compared  in  its  effect  to  a bicycle  ; but  the  seat  is  more 
comfortable,  the  force  is  supplied  by  another  man’s 
muscles,  and  all  responsibility  for  collisions  is  shifted 
on  his  shoulders.  One  might  call  it  the  lazy  man’s 
bicycle,  and  if  you  are  no  more  particular  about  personal 
attitude  and  comfort  than  the  Japanese  are,  you  may 
even  take  a nap  in  it  on  the  way  home  after  a dinner  or 
an  exhausting  outing.  I frequently  saw  natives  thus 
dozing  away,  with  head  hanging  limp  over  one  side  of 
the  kuruma. 

Like  our  cabmen  the  kuruma  pullers  have  regular 
stands  at  railway  stations  and  street  corners,  and  in 
their  habits  and  morals  they  are  not  unlike  the  jehus 


34 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


of  our  cities.  These  horse-men  are  apt  to  be  “ heavy 
chargers,”  and  their  tendency  to  ask  more  than  the 
legal  fare  has  already  been  referred  to  as  a connecting 
link  between  America  and  Japan.  Another  trait  which 
the  kurumaya  has  in  common  with  our  cabmen  is  that 
when  he  sees  a tourist  trying  to  go  sightseeing  on  foot, 
he  follows  him  in  the  hope  that  the  sun  will  soon  bring 
him  to  terms  ; nor  does  he  often  err  in  his  calculations. 
This  frequently  happened  to  me.  When  several  were 
in  the  party,  the  same  number  of  coolies  followed  us. 
If  they  failed  in  their  still  hunt,  they  bore  their  dis- 
appointment with  Asiatic  complacency. 

The  Tokyo  kuruma  is  as  unique  as  the  Venetian 
gondola,  and  it  might,  perhaps,  be  called  a land  gon- 
dola. The  gondolier  always  insists  that  two  rowers 
are  necessary,  till  lie  hears  your  basta  uno  ! The  kuru- 
maya looks  at  your  girth  and  weight  in  simulated  dis- 
may (though  you  may  not  weigh  over  180),  and  tries 
to  make  you  understand  that  for  such  a heavy  fellow 
two  runners  are  absolutely  necessary.  If  you  consent, 
the  second  man  pushes  from  behind,  or,  attaching  a 
rope  to  the  shafts,  he  precedes  the  man  between  the 
shafts,  tandem  style.  On  country  tours,  where  hills  are 
apt  to  occur,  it  is  always  well’ to  take  two  men,  unless 
you  are  willing  to  walk  up  the  slopes ; but  in  the  city 
one  man  is  quite  enough,  unless  you  are  in  a hurry. 
You  feel,  indeed,  that  you  are  heavier  than  the  natives, 
but  as  you  constantly  see  two,  three,  or  even  more  of 
these  natives  crowding  into  a kuruma  pulled  by  one 
coolie,  you  soon  become  indifferent  to  that  fact.  Be- 
sides, there  are  some  people  who  have  to  study  economy. 
Compared  with  a cab,  a coolie  is  always  cheap  ; he 
charges  only  ten  cents  an  hour  going,  and  three  cents 


RAILWAY  AND  KURUMA 


35 


waiting,  or  at  the  rate  of  three  cents  a mile.  For  sight- 
seers this  is  cheap  enough,  but  for  daily  use  it  would  be 
expensive.  A New  York  business  man  pays  ten  cents 
to  go  from  Harlem  to  the  Battery  and  back  — about  ten 
miles  each  way ; in  Tokyo  the  cost  would  be  sixty  cents 
with  one  runner  and  $1.20  with  two. 

It  is  probable  that  the  kuruma  will  be  ere  long  super- 
seded by  electric  tricycles  and  cars  ; all  the  more  as 
there  seems  to  be  a feeling  that  it  is  a sort  of  “ degra- 
dation ” to  the  country.  I fail  to  see  why  it  should  be 
more  degrading  for  a coolie  to  draw  a gentleman  or 
lady  on  a clean  little  wagon  through  the  streets,  than 
to  carry  the  city  sewage  in  buckets  to  the  rice  fields, 
as  thousands  of  them  do  in  spring,  or  to  work  knee- 
deep  in  the  malodorous  mire  of  these  fields,  as  millions 
of  peasants  and  their  wives  do  all  summer  long.  I am 
sure  the  kurumayas  would  not  willingly  change  places 
with  these  peasants. 

Let  us  now  entrust  ourselves  to  one  of  these  coolies 
for  a ride  through  the  streets  of  Tokyo.  There  are 
always  half-a-dozen  of  them  waiting  at  the  hotel  en- 
trance, in  company  with  several  stray  dogs,  who  are 
charitably  taken  care  of,  and  who  sometimes  follow  us ; 
but  some  find  the  sun  too  warm,  and  return.  If  Taro 
is  there,  do  not  fail  to  engage  him ; for  Taro  is  a jewel 
among  the  kurumayas  of  the  capital.  Not  only  is  he 
a good  runner,  who  knows  his  Tokyo  as  well  as  Dickens 
did  his  London  (either  of  which  requires  a big  brain), 
but  he  speaks  a little  English,  and  thus  enables  you  to 
dispense  with  a guide.  Whenever  Taro  is  disengaged 
for  an  hour,  he  sits  by  his  kuruma,  with  a little  book 
in  hand,  busily  memorizing  English  words  and  phrases  ; 
and  he  has  his  reward,  for  he  is  more  in  demand  than 


36 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


any  of  his  colleagues.  He  has  one  fault.  His  national 
and  individual  politeness  is  so  great  that  whenever  he 
does  not  understand  one  of  your  questions,  he  says, 
“ Yes,”  fearing  that  a negative  might  cause  disappoint- 
ment. One  day,  to  test  him,  I asked  if  I might  cut 
the  throat  of  a pretty  girl  who  was  serving  the  tea, 
whereupon  he  promptly  and  cordially  replied,  “ Oh 
yes!” 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO 


RECENT  CHANGES DAIMYOS  AND  SAMURAI YASIIIKIS  AND 

MOATS POLICEMEN ATTACKS  ON  FOREIGNERS SAFETY 

IN  CITY  AND  COUNTRY SHOPS  AND  HOMES  EXPOSED  TO 

VIEW BAZAARS TRADES  FLOCKING  TOGETHER COMIC 

SIGNBOARDS UNGRAMMATICAL  COSTUMES BRUNETTES 

IN  BLUE MODEST  EXPOSURE JAPANESE  CHILDREN 

BOWING HOW  THE  POOR  LIVE FIRES  AND  GODOWNS 

Perhaps  no  city  in  the  world  has  ever  undergone 
so  wonderful  a change  as  has  the  capital  of  Japan 
within  little  more  than  a quarter  of  a century.  The 
Japanese,  says  Professor  Chamberlain,  “ have  done  in 
twenty  years  what  it  took  Europe  as  many  centuries 
to  accomplish.”  Descriptions  of  Tokyo  street  scenes 
made  by  Laurence  Oliphant  and  Sir  Rutherford  Alcock 
three  or  four  decades  ago  are,  in  some  respects,  as  anti- 
quated and  inapplicable  to-day,  as  the  accounts  of  life 
in  mediaeval  Europe  are  to  modern  London,  Paris,  and 
Berlin.  For  example,  take  the  following  from  Alcock  : 

“ Every  hundred  steps,  more  or  less,  we  pass  a ward-gate,  which 
at  night  they  can  close  if  an  alarm  of  thieves  is  given,  or  by  day  if 
any  disturbance  should  arise,  while  a sort  of  decrepit  municipal 
guard  is  kept  in  a lodge  at  each,  supposed  to  be  responsible  for  the 
peace  of  their  wards,  and  to  be  ever  vigilant ! Some,  as  we  pass, 
rush  out  with  a long  iron  pole,  to  the  top  of  which  rings  are 
attached,  and  make  a distracting  noise  when  the  lower  end  is 
struck  on  the  ground.  This  is  considered  an  honor,”  etc. 

37 


88 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


When  Oliphant  visited  Tokyo,  in  1858,  crowds  of 
men,  women,  and  children  ran  after  his  party,  politely 
staring,  till  one  of  these  barriers  was  reached. 

“ The  moment  we  pass  this,  the  gate  is  shut,  and  the  old  crowd 
is  left  behind  to  crane  through  the  bars,  and  watch  with  envious 
eyes  the  new  crowd  forming.  All  the  cross-streets  entering  the 
main  street  are  shut  off  from  it  by  ropes  stretched  across  them, 
under  or  over  which  the  people  never  attempt  to  pass.” 

To-day  you  would  look  for  these  ropes,  barriers,  gate 
keepers,  and  pursuing  crowds,  as  vainly  as  in  New  York. 
In  vain,  too,  would  you  look  for  the  clumsy  and  horribly 
uncomfortable  norimons  and  kagos  — the  more  or  less 
complicated  Sedan  chairs,  litters,  palanquins,  or  what- 
ever you  choose  to  call  them  — with  two  or  more  bear  - 
ers,  that  used  to  be  the  mode  of  conveyance  for  the 
well-to-do.  The}^  have  been  superseded  in  the  cities  by 
the  kurumas,  and  banished  to  mountain  regions,  where 
these  modern  two-wlieelers  are  useless.  Will  Adams, 
the  shipwrecked  English  sailor  who  resided  in  Japan 
from  1600  to  1620,  writes,  in  one  of  his  quaint  letters,  of 
“ sixe  men  appointed  to  carrie  my  pallankin  in  plaine 
and  even  ground.  But  where  the  country  grew  hilly, 
ten  men  were  allowed  me  thereto.’'  To-day  one  or  two 
men  do  the  work  which  then  required  six  or  ten,  and 
iron  wheels  hold  the  weight  which  then  rested  on  human 
shoulders.  Whatever  may  be  the  “degradation”  im- 
plied in  the  use  of  the  kuruma,  it  certainly  has  proved 
a blessing  to  the  poor  coolie ; and  what  the  well-to-do 
populace  thought  of  the  change,  may  be  inferred  from 
the  rapidity  of  its  adoption  and  multiplication. 

In  vain,  again,  would  you  look  in  modern  Tokyo  for 
the  samurai,  or  two-sworded  soldiers,  looking  like  “ some 
new  species  of  biped  adorned  with  two  tails,”  who  used 


KAGO 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO 


39 


to  swarm  in  the  city  by  the  hundred  thousand,  and  who, 
in  their  drunken  fits,  made  the  streets  unsafe  for  inoffen- 
sive dogs  and  coolies,  on  whom  they  loved  to  try  the 
temper  of  their  steel,  so  that  it  was  often  unsafe  to  ven- 
ture into  the  streets  after  dark.  Gone  are  the  daimyos, 
or  provincial  nobles,  the  barons  of  feudal  Japan,  three 
hundred  in  number,  who  used  to  bring  each  from  a few 
thousand  to  as  many  as  30,000  of  these  burly  samurai 
as  retainers  to  the  capital,  where  the  daimyos  were  com- 
pelled by  law  to  spend  half  the  year,  leaving  their 
families  as  hostages  and  pledges  of  good  behavior  dur- 
ing their  residence  at  home  the  rest  of  the  year. 
Luckily  some  of  the  buildings  in  which  they  lived  are 
still  in  existence,  constituting  one  of  the  oddest  of 
the  street  sights,  puzzling  to  the  globe-trotter  unless 
he  knows  at  least  as  much  of  Japanese  history  as  is 
conveyed  in  this  paragraph. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  these  yashikis  add  anything  to 
the  beauty  of  Tokyo.  They  are  low,  unpainted,  inter- 
minable buildings  which  might  be  taken  for  Asiatic 
tenement  houses,  were  it  not  that  most  of  them  seem 
utterly  deserted.  Many  have  been  demolished  or  de- 
stroyed by  fire,  and  others  converted  into  government 
buildings,  but  enough  remain  in  their  primitive  state 
to  astonish  the  visitor,  like  the  endless  moats  and  walls 
along  which  he  passes  on  the  way  to  the  business  centres. 
Mr.  Griffis  has  graphically  compared  these  yashikis  — 
literally  “ spread-out  houses  ” — to  military  tents,  made 
permanent  in  wood  and  stone.  The  plan  of  the  city 
of  Yeddo  (as  Toky5  was  formerly  called),  when  it 
was  made  by  the  Shogun  Iyeyasu,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  was,  as  he  says,  “ simply  that 
of  a great  camp.”  “ This  one  idea  explains  its  centre, 


40 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


divisions,  and  relations.  In  the  heart  of  this  vast  en- 
campment was  the  general’s  headquarters — a well-nigh 
impregnable  castle.  On  the  most  eligible  and  com- 
manding sites  were  the  tents  of  his  chief  satraps. 
These  tents  were  yashikis.  The  architectural  proto- 
type of  a yashiki  is  a Japanese  tent.”1 

Even  more  than  these  yashikis,  the  moats  surround- 
ing them  and  the  great  castle,  together  with  the 
numerous  canals  that  intersect  the  city,  and  their 
bridges,  attract  the  attention  on  one’s  first  rides  through 
the  less  populous  parts  of  Tokyo.  There  are  miles  of 
broad  moats,  steep  on  one  side,  with  sloping  banks  on 
the  other,  leading  up  to  massive  stone  walls,  usually 
adorned  with  green  creepers  or  a row  of  evergreen 
trees  on  top,  spreading  out  like  large  oaks.  The  moats 
are  always  filled  with  sluggish  water,  almost  stagnant, 
and  are  the  home,  in  winter,  of  water  fowl,  secure  in 
the  protection  of  the  law  in  summer,  of  the  pink 
lotos.  But  even  the  sacred  lotos,  symbol  of  purity, 
rising  triumphantly  from  the  mud,  would  not,  perhaps, 
be  able  with  its  faint  fragrance  to  overcome  the  foul 
odors  which  arise  from  some  of  these  canals,  and  which 
constitute  one  more  reminder  of  Venice.  On  my  first 
visit  to  the  capital  these  stenches  made  it  unpleasant 
to  cross  the  bridges,  but  on  my  return  from  Yezo,  after 
an  absence  of  several  weeks,  I found  that  the  moats 
and  canals  had  been  disinfected  by  the  sanitary  authori- 
ties, regardless  of  expense,  to  check  the  ravages  of  the 
cholera,  which  had  in  the  meantime  made  its  appear- 
ance. 

The  bridges  over  these  canals  are  the  best  places 

1 A vivid  idea  of  life  in  one  of  these  buildings  is  conveyed  by 
Maclay’s  romance  Mito  Yashiki. 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO  41 

to  observe  the  miscellaneous  and  crowded  boat  traffic 
which  in  the  capital  (and  still  more  in  the  commercial 
city  of  Osaka)  largely  takes  the  place  of  horses  and 
wagons.  The  canals  are  supplied  by  the  river  Sumida, 
which  flows  through  Tokyo,  and  on  them  you  will  see  at 
any  time  of  the  day,  hundreds  of  roofed  boats  and 
barges  laden  with  merchandise  from  or  for  steamers,  or 
vegetables  from  farms  or  suburban  gardens.  The  men 
who  load  and  unload  them  seem  to  have  a liking  for  the 
direct  rays  of  the  sun;  for  in  fair  weather  their  sole 
garment  is  a loin  cloth,  Avhereas  the  rain  is  often  warded 
off  by  a grotesque  coat  of  straw  suggesting  a porcupine 
on  the  warpath. 

On  one  side  or  the  other  of  a bridge  we  usually 
passed  a policeman,  whose  peaceful  aspect  gave  no  inti- 
mation of  the  fact  that  he  belonged  to  the  former 
warrior  class  of  the  samurai.  The  Japanese  samurai 
have  been  pronounced  unique  by  the  historians,  because 
they  were  at  the  same  time  the  soldiers  and  the  scholars 
of  their  country.  But  are  not  our  scholars  also  noted 
for  their  pugnacity  ? Do  they  not  dearly  love  a fight, 
even  though  they  utilize  the  discovery  that  the  pen 
is  mightier  than  the  sword?  The  samurai  had  not 
learned  this  lesson  when  they  lost  their  occupation 
through  the  abolition  of  the  Shogun  and  the  daimyos, 
and  the  restoration  of  the  Mikado,  in  1868.  And  when 
the  new  law  compelled  them  to  give  up  their  two 
swords  many  of  them  joined  the  police  force,  where  they 
could  wear  at  least  one  sword. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  the  new  Japanese  police  force 
is  the  most  intelligent,  courteous,  and  efficient  in  the 
world.  Of  the  old-style  policeman  we  get  a glimpse 
in  the  pages  of  Olipliant,  who  describes  them  as  wearing 


42 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


a sort  of  harlequin  costume  of  many  colors,  and  carry- 
ing iron  rods,  six  or  seven  feet  long,  with  iron  rings 
attached  to  them,  which  they  jingled  to  inspire  awe  in 
the  crowd.  To-day,  the  policemen  are  the  most  foreign- 
looking  class  of  all  Japanese.  They  wear,  in  summer, 
white  linen  trousers  and  sack  coats  of  foreign  cut,  and 
white  hats,  with  white  crepe  hanging  behind  to  prevent 
the  sun  from  striking  the  neck. 

It  is  this  foreign  costume  that  helps  to  make  the 
Toky5  policemen  seem  so  small  compared  with  our  Irish 
giants  in  New  York.  To  us,  too,  it  seems  odd  to  see 
policemen  wearing  spectacles,  as  30  per  cent  of  the 
Japanese  are  said  to  do,  — an  inheritance  from  their 
studious  ancestors.  They  are  still  fond  of  reading.  In 
Netto’s  beautifully  illustrated  quarto  there  is  an  amus- 
ing illustration  (p.  77)  of  a policeman  guarding  some 
convicts  at  work.  The  prisoners  have  things  pretty 
much  their  own  way,  for  their  erudite  and  spectacled 
guardian  is  sitting  on  a campstool,  reading  a big  volume, 
with  his  feet  not  resting  on  the  ground,  but  tucked 
away  under  him  on  the  stool.  Yet  I fancy  that  if  one 
of  those  convicts  attempted  to  escape,  he  would  find 
that  that  samurai  had  not  forgotten  the  ancestral  art  of 
wielding  the  two-handed  sword.  During  my  summer 
in  Japan  I never  saw  a policeman’s  sword  drawn,  nor, 
apart  from  having  to  show  my  passport  in  rural  regions, 
was  I ever  accosted  by  one  of  these  scholarly  guardians 
of  the  peace  except  once,  when  my  man-horse  (not  Taro) 
had  forgotten  to  take  along  the  lantern,  which  is  pre- 
scribed by  law  at  night,  to  avoid  collisions.  For  a 
moment  it  looked  serious  for  the  runner,  but  when  I 
produced  my  official  invitation  to  the  exposition,  the 
policeman  smiled,  bowed  low,  and  allowed  us  to  pro- 


43 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO 

ceecl  in  peace.  Whether  he  took  my  puller’s  number 
and  fined  him  afterwards,  I could  not  find  out. 

Such  is  the  Tokyo  policeman  — intelligent,  courteous, 
and  sufficiently  brave  to  enforce  order  even  were  his 
countrymen  a hundred  times  less  peaceable  than  they 
are.  1 have  been  asked  repeatedly,  44  Is  it  perfectly 
safe  to  travel  alone  in  Japan?”  A perusal  of  Alcock 
and  even  more  recent  books  would  create  a suspicion 
that  such  a tour  would  not  be  without  its  risks  to  life. 
Between  1859  and  1870,  it  is  estimated,  about  fifty 
foreigners  were  killed  in  Japan,  and  at  the  latter  date 
the  government  still  deemed  it  necessary  to  protect  the 
foreign  preachers  in  Tokyo  by  an  escort  of  fifty  men. 
44  During  my  stay  of  nearly  four  years  in  Japan,”  says 
Mr.  Griffis, 44  several  Europeans  were  attacked  or  killed  ; 
but  in  no  case  was  there  a genuine  assassination  or  unpro- 
voked assault .”  An  impartial  investigation  of  all  the 
attacks  made  on  foreigners  has  convinced  the  best  au- 
thorities that  in  most  cases  the  foreigners  themselves 
brought  on  the  tragedy  by  insolent  or  reckless  conduct. 
There  were,  indeed,  some  exceptions  — a few  assassi- 
nations by  patriotic  fanatics,  who  believed  they  would 
serve  their  country  and  its  ruler  by  murdering  a hated 
foreigner ; but  even  these  ceased  at  once  after  the 
Mikado’s  proclamation  in  1868,  declaring  that  he  re- 
garded such  attacks  as  infamous  and  detestable,  and 
that  samurai  guilty  of  them  would  be  degraded,  their 
swords  taken  from  them,  and  their  dishonored  names 
erased  from  the  rolls  of  the  samurai ; that,  further,  they 
should  be  beheaded  by  the  common  executioner  (instead 
of  being  allowed  the  honorable  privilege  of  hara-kiri), 
and  their  heads  be  exposed  for  three  days.1 

1 Black’s  Young  Japan , II.  190,  191. 


44 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


The  Japanese  kindliness  and  courtesy  inspire  one  with 
such  boundless  and  immediate  confidence  in  the  whole 
population,  that  I cheerfully,  folio  wed  Taro  on  day  and 
night  excursions  through  dark  suburban  lanes  and  alleys 
— houseless  regions,  with  a ditch  on  one  side,  a high 
wall  on  the  other  — such  as  I would  never  dream  of 
passing  alone  and  unarmed  at  night  in  New  York,  Lon- 
don, Paris,  or  Berlin.  I may  also  quote  the  testimony 
of  Miss  Bird,  who  wrote : “ I have  . . . travelled 
twelve  hundred  miles  in  the  interior  and  in  Yezo,  with 
perfect  safety  and  freedom  from  alarm,  and  I believe 
there  is  no  country  in  the  world  in  which  a lady  can 
travel  with  such  absolute  security  from  danger  and 
rudeness  as  in  Japan.” 

Turning  to  the  left,  after  crossing  one  of  the  bridges, 
we  suddenly  find  ourselves  in  a street  crowded  with 
kurumas  and  thousands  of  men,  women,  and  children, 
moving  on  in  a calm,  Oriental  gait  that  would  make  a 
New  York  business  man  nervous  and  wild  with  impa- 
tience. It  is  in  wending  his  way  through  these  slug- 
gish crowds  that  the  kurumaya  shows  his  skill  and  tact. 
He  misses  collisions  with  his  colleagues  as  narrowly,  but 
as  unfailingly,  as  a London  ’bus  or  cab  driver,  and,  like 
the  Londoner,  he  always  passes  to  the  left,  while  he  dif- 
fers from  the  Englishman  in  constantly  emitting  a warn- 
ing “Hi ! hi ! ” We  are  not  sorry  that  he  cannot  go 
fast,  for  here  there  is  so  much  to  see  that  the  countless 
eye  lenses  of  a fly  would  hardly  seem  too  many  for  a 
tourist. 

In  American  or  European  cities,  we  understand  by 
“ street  scenes  ” the  sights  in  the  streets  and  on  the 
sidewalks,  including,  at  most,  the  few  wares  exposed  in 
the  windows.  In  a Japanese  city,  the  whole  contents 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO  45 

of  the  shops  or  stores  are  included  in  the  street  scenes. 
It  is  true  that  the  dealers  in  silks,  works  of  art,  and  other 
valuable  articles,  keep  most  of  their  stock  locked  up  in 
their  fire-proof  kura , or  godowns,  bringing  them  out  only 
as  wanted  by  customers.  But  these  seem  to  be  the  ex- 
ception ; and  the  surmise  that  most  Japanese  merchants 
have  their  whole  stock  in  trade  visible  from  the  street 
is  probably  not  far  from  the  truth.  The  merchants  and 
their  clerks  are,  of  course,  visible  too,  and  so  are  the 
customers,  who,  if  they  have  expensive  purchases  to 
make,  take  off  their  clogs  and  squat  on  a mat  inside, 
partaking  of  the  tea  and  tobacco  offered  by  the  mer- 
chant ; but  ordinarily  the  buyer  simply  sits  on  the  foot- 
high  projecting  part  of  the  shop  floor,  with  a sloping 
roof  oyer  him,  and  his  feet  in  the  street,  for  there  is 
not  even  a sidewalk.  On  sunny  days,  screens  shut  out 
part  of  the  view , but  ordinarily,  as  you  ride  or  walk 
down  a Tokyo  street,  you  can  see  all  the  goods  and  all 
the  transactions  of  the  clerks,  the  buyers,  and  the  boys 
who  are  hauling  the  things  wanted  from  the  godowns  ; 
not  to  speak  of  the  domestic  scenes  in  the  interior  rooms 
and  the  garden  — of  persons  sleeping,  eating,  drinking, 
bathing,  dressing,  gossiping  — all  of  which  are  visible 
from  the  street,  since  all  the  movable  partitions  between 
the  rooms  are  removed  in  the  daytime  to  let  in  day- 
light and  fresh  cool  air,  if  there  is  any.  It  has  been 
suggested,  with  some  appearance  of  probability,  that 
one  reason  why  the  Japanese  of  all  classes  are  so  court- 
eous and  refined  is  that  all  their  doings,  domestic  as 
well  as  public,  are  constantly  exposed  to  the  eyes  of 
neighbors  and  strangers  — even  at  night ; for  when  the 
sliding  screens  are  put  back  in  their  places,  the  oiled 
paper  on  them,  which  takes  the  place  of  window  panes, 


46 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


serves  as  a stereopticon  screen,  on  which  are  shown 
amusing  shadow  pictures  of  whatever  goes  on  within. 

The  average  Japanese  merchant  likes  to  bargain,  and 
is  apt  to  charge  foreigners  much  more  than  he  expects 
to  get.  Strangers,  therefore,  in  purchasing  articles  of 
everyday  use,  will  do  well  to  patronize  one  of  the  large 
bazaars  in  Shiba  Park,  or  on  the  Broadway  of  Tokyo,  the 
Ginza,  the  widest  avenue  in  the  city,  in  which  the  price 
of  each  article  is  plainly  marked ; yet  even  here  it  is 
well  to  look  out  for  tricks,  especially  on  the  part  of  the 
kuruma  men,  who  like  to  get  their  “squeeze,”  or  per- 
centage. These  bazaars  are  interesting,  too,  in  giving 
one  a convenient  bird’s-eye  view  of  everything  that 
goes  to  furnish  Japanese  sitting  rooms  (kneeling  rooms 
would  be  a more  correct  term),  bed  and  dining  rooms, 
libraries,  and  kitchens.  Here  you  will  see  tobacco 
pipes  and  pouches  in  endless  variety ; J apanese  paper 
in  all  colors,  for  a hundred  different  uses,  some  of  it  as 
tough  as  linen  ; toys,  lacquer  ware,  rice  bowls,  chop 
sticks,  wooden  pillows,  wooden  shoes,  foot  mittens  ; 
leather  trunks  and  bags,  in  foreign  style,  wonderfully 
cheap ; umbrellas,  Japanese  and  foreign  ; ornamental 
screens  and  fans ; kimonos,  obis,  and  other  articles  of 
dress ; and  so  on,  till  the  eye  is  bewildered,  and  you 
beg  your  Taro  to  take  you  back  to  the  kuruma ; for 
alone  it  would  not  be  easy  to  find  one’s  way  out  of  the 
commercial  mazes  of  these  national  museums. 

Although  New  York  bankers  still  flock  together  on 
Wall  Street,  and  the  newspaper  and  publishing  houses 
favor  special  quarters,  as  a general  thing  our  Occidental 
cities  have  outgrown  the  mediaeval  habit  of  monopo- 
lizing certain  streets  for  certain  trades.  In  Japanese 
cities  this  custom  is  still  largely  in  vogue;  you  will 


SILK  STORE 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO 


47 


ride  through  streets  where  everybody  is  selling  paper 
lanterns  ; others,  where  hairdressers  ply  their  loquacious 
trade ; others,  where  lacquer  ware  or  curios  are  sold, 
or  bamboo  furniture,  or  baskets,  or  fans,  or  new  and 
second-hand  clothing,  or  books,  and  so  on.  In  the 
Ginza,  however,  the  various  trades  and  commercial 
branches  are  strung  together  at  random,  as  in  our  own 
Broadway.  Here,  too,  you  may  see  evidences  of  foreign 
influence,  — leather  shoe  shops,  tailors  using  sewing 
machines,  and  the  like.  Foreign  telegraph  lines  intro- 
duce a dissonant  element  in  the  street  views  which  does 
not  please  the  eyes  of  the  natives,  and  the  newspapers 
plead  occasionally  to  have  them  put  underground. 

Times  are  hard  in  Tdkyo,  as  elsewhere,  and  enter- 
prising merchants  make  efforts  to  attract  all  the  foreign 
customers  they  can.  To  this  end  they  put  out  shop 
signs,  many  of  which  are  amusingly  “ Eurasian.”  Here 
are  a few  samples  : “ Several  Woolen  Cloths  and  Tailor 
Shop.”  “French  Infections.”  “Great  Sail  of  Man- 
of-War  Beer,  Wine,  Spiritual  Liquors.”  “The  Im- 
proved Milk.”  “ Carver  and  Gilder  for  Sale.”  “ Wine, 
Beer  & other  Medicines.”  “Best  Perfuming  Water 
Anti-Fleas.”  “ Washins  and  Ironins.”  “ Bible  Shop.” 

The  costumes  of  the  natives  are  sometimes  quite  as 
ungrammatical  as  these  shop  signs, — a ludicrous  mixture 
of  Europe  and  Asia.  Many  of  the  educated  Japanese 
we  meet  in  America  and  in  Tokyo  wear  foreign  clothes 
with  such  ease  and  elegance  that  one  might  think  they 
had  never  known  any  other.  The  policemen,  too,  seem 
to  take  kindly  to  clothes  of  our  pattern,  and  the  soldiers 
are  becoming  reconciled  to  them.  But  in  the  street 
crowds  one  meets  the  oddest  mixtures  of  evening  dress 
and  bathing  suits,  — naked  legs  with  a blouse  and  a 


48 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


foreign  hat,  high  boots  with  a kimono,  legs  and  head 
Asiatic,  trunk  European,  or  vice  versa , with  endless 
combinations  and  variations.  As  a rule,  the  Japanese 
men,  like  the  women,  go  bareheaded ; and  when  they 
do  manage  to  secure  a foreign  hat,  they  do  not  usually 
improve  their  appearance.  If  the  Duke  of  Wellington 
could  have  lived  to  visit  Tokyo  to-day,  he  would 
confess  that  his  exclamation,  “ I never  saw  so  many 
shocking  bad  hats,”  was  no  longer  applicable  to  the 
first  Reformed  Parliament.  Trousers  too  long  or  short, 
unbruslied  silk  hats,  and  a general  awkwardness  in 
European  clothing,  prove  that  Japanese  taste  in  dress- 
ing is  an  inherited  instinct  which  has  great  trouble  in 
accommodating  itself  to  our  present  ugly  costume. 

It  would  be  a great  mistake  to  suppose  that  such  evi- 
dences of  foreign  influence  are  abundant  in  the  capi- 
tal. On  the  contrary,  you  may  force  your  way  through 
crowded  miles  of  natives  without  seeing  a dozen  men  in 
foreign  clothes  or  a score  in  the  hybrid  masquerade  just 
described.  As  for  the  women,  they  represent  here,  as 
elsewhere,  the  conservative  element.  They  tried  Paris- 
ian costume,  a few  years  ago,  and  found  it  odious,  ugly, 
and  uncomfortable ; a reaction  set  in,  and  to-day  you 
may  spend  a whole  afternoon  or  evening  in  the  streets 
of  Tokyo  without  meeting  one  of  them  in  foreign  attire. 
Bareheaded,  smiling,  armed  with  parasol  and  fan  by  way 
of  protection  against  the  sun,  they  seem  like  those  very 
familiar  figures  on  screens,  fans,  and  vases,  touched  by 
a fairy’s  wand  and  changed  into  living  beings,  — except 
that  their  eyes  are  not  so  absurdly  oblique  as  in  those 
conventional  scenes,  nor  their  gowns  so  picturesque. 
To-day  it  is  only  the  little  girls  who  wear  brightly 
colored  gowns.  As  the  maidens  grow  older,  they  dis- 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO 


49 


card  these,  and  the  initiated  can  tell  the  age  of  every 
Japanese  girl  by  the  increasing  sombreness  of  her  dress, 
as  well  as  by  the  increasing  elaborateness  of  her  coiffure  ; 
an  expert  can  also  tell  whether  a young  woman  is  mar- 
ried or  single,  respectable  or  otherwise,  whether  from 
the  country  or  city-bred. 

It  is  a maxim  of  Western  esthetics  that  brunettes 
should  wear  some  shade  of  red,  while  blue  is  most  be- 
coming to  blondes.  It  seems  strange,  therefore,  that 
the  Japanese,  the  esthetic  nation  par  excellence , a na- 
tion of  brunettes,  should  have  chosen  blue  as  the  almost 
universal  color  of  their  everyday  gown.  There  are 
other  things  I cannot  admire  about  their  female  cos- 
tume. The  kimono  is  so  tight  below  the  waist  that 
the  women  are  obliged  to  shuffle  along  on  their  hideous 
clogs,  with  short,  clumsy  steps,  ruinous  to  grace.  Above 
the  waist  the  kimono  is  a thing  of  beauty,  and  an  ideal 
dress  for  this  climate.  The  women  have  a comfortable 
way  of  leaving  it  open,  so  as  to  give  the  air  free  access 
to  the  bosom.  It  is  curious  to  see  how  Japanese  boys 
will  draw  their  skirts  together  over  their  legs,  and  the 
young  women  their  kimonos  over  the  chest,  when  they 
pass  a foreigner.  Among  themselves  they  feel  perfectly 
innocent,  and  they  are  innocent,  — much  more  so  than 
some  of  their  foreign  visitors  with  their  prurient  ideas 
regarding  exposure.  Complete  nudity  in  public  is  now 
forbidden  by  law,  but  the  men  still  freely  expose  the 
lower  half  of  the  body,  the  women  the  upper. 

Although  Japanese  women  are  not  chaperoned  so 
zealously  as  in  other  Oriental  countries,  but  mingle 
freely  with  the  men  in  the  streets,  they  usually  keep 
together  in  a way  which  suggests  the  separation  of  the 
sexes  in  the  promenades  along  a Spanish  alameda. 


50 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


There  are  of  course  mixed  family  groups,  in  which  the 
centre  of  attraction  is  made  by  the  “ wee  ones,”  about 
whose  cunning  ways  whole  books  have  been  written. 
1 believe  I have  already  mentioned  several  things  as 
the  oddest  and  most  characteristic  of  all  J apanese  sights  ; 
but  I must  take  all  those  back  and  give  the  first  place 
to  these  tots.  Perfect  Lilliputian  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
they  smile  as  sweetly  and  bow  as  courteously  as  their 
elders.  I had  been  in  the  country  three  weeks  before 
I heard  an  infant  cry.  Many  of  the  children  are 
extremely  pretty,  and  most  of  them  are  useful  as  well 
as  ornamental.  Of  her  first  child  the  mother  has  to 
take  care  herself,  which  she  does  by  tucking  it  away 
in  the  back  of  her  dress,  thus  leaving  her  hands  free 
for  work.  The  second  child  is  cradled  on  the  back  of 
its  elder  sister,  where  it  lives,  taking  in  all  the  sights 
with  its  black  bead- eyes  till  it  gets  sleepy,  when  it  lets 
the  head  drop  and  dangle  as  it  pleases,  while  the  elder 
sister  continues  her  walk  or  play  regardless  of  her 
sleeping  burden.  This  sight,  which  is  repeated  at  every 
street  corner,  is  even  more  Japanesy  than  the  kuruma, 
kimono,  or  paper  lantern. 

You  cannot  spend  an  hour  in  the  streets  of  Tokyo 
without  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Japanese  are 
indeed  “the  very  pineapples  of  politeness.”  When 
we  meet  a friend  we  say  “ How  d’you  do  ? ” or  “ Hello,” 
and  perhaps  we  shake  hands.  To  the  Japanese  of  the 
old  school  such  conduct  appears  both  foolish  and  rude. 
Hand-shaking  is  unknown  to  them,  and  so  is  kissing 
among  friends  or  even  by  lovers.  In  the  house,  a 
Japanese  greeting  consists  in  getting  down  on  the 
knees,  spreading  the  hands  on  the  mats  and  quickly 
and  repeatedly  lowering  the  head  till  it  touches  the 


CARRYING  CHILDREN 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO 


51 


floor.  In  the  street  there  are  no  clean  mats  to  kneel 
on,  wherefore  a different  method  is  adopted.  Two 
acquaintances,  on  meeting,  stop,  bend  over,  rub  their 
knees  with  their  hands,  at  the  same  time  sucking'  in 
the  breath  audibly  *,  this  is  done  several  times,  and  the 
one  who  keeps  it  up  longest  feels  proudest  of  himself. 
h It  takes  time,  but  time  is  not  money  in  the  East.  I 
noticed  that  my  kuruma  man,  though  he  might  be  all 
out  of  breath,  never  neglected  to  nod  to  a passing 
acquaintance.  If  he  happened  to  be  resting,  he  would 
take  his  big  white  umbrella-hat  in  his  hand  and  make 
several  bows.  Imagine  our  “ cabbies  ” bowing  to  each 
other  three  times  ! 

Among  the  hundreds  of  thousands  you  may  pass  in 
the  streets  of  this  capital,  you  will  rarely  see  any  with 
the  nervous,  busy,  preoccupied  mien  which  is  stereo- 
typed on  our  street  crowds.  Though  most  of  them  are 
poor,  their  faces  wear  a mien  of  placid  contentment 
with  their  fate.  Evidently  these  Orientals  get  more 
solid  enjoyment  out  of  life  than  the  jostling,  eager, 
worried,  and  hurried  populace  of  our  Western  cities. 

In  my  daily  rides  through  all  parts  of  Toky5, 1 looked 
in  vain  for  those  shocking  contrasts  between  extreme 
wealth  and  extreme  poverty  that  are  such  a disgrace 
and  reproach  to  our  “Christian”  cities.  A Tokyo 
paper  published  in  June,  1890,  the  results  of  an  official 
investigation  into  the  extent  of  destitution  in  that  city. 
Altogether  5428  cases  were  found.  Of  these,  163  stood 
face  to  face  with  starvation,  584  were  living  on  roots 
and  potato  rinds,  while  4600  were' too  poor  to  buy  rice, 
but  lived  on  millet  and  buckwheat  meal.  This  is  not  a 
cheerful  record,  but  it  would  be  absurd  to  compare  it 
for  a moment  with  the  horrible  wretchedness  and  star- 


52 


LOTOS-TIME  IK  JAPAN 


vation  in  the  slums  of  our  large  cities.  Moreover, 
however  ill-provided  Japanese  paupers  may  be  in  the 
matter  of  food,  they  are,  at  all  events,  not  huddled 
together  like  hogs  in  deadly,  un ventilated  tenement 
pens.  The  poorest  family  usually  has  its  own  house, 
nor  is  it  customary  to  take  in  boarders.  This  implies 
a great  many  houses  in  a city  of  nearly  a million  and  a 
half  souls,  and  explains  why  Tokyo  gives  the  impression 
of  being  an  immense  and  rather  mean-looking  village 
— an  impression  heightened  by  the  fact  that  the  rich 
do  not  usually  display  their  wealth  by  adorning  the 
street  side  of  their  houses,  but  reserve  the  interior  and 
the  back  garden  for  whatever  artistic  or  floral  display 
they  may  desire. 

The  cheap  appearance  of  most  Japanese  houses  is 
simply  a consequence  of  the  frequent  fires.  There  was 
one  in  1879,  which  destroyed  11,000  houses,  making 
50,000  people  homeless.  In  his  book  on  earthquakes, 
Professor  Milne  says:  “ In  one  winter  I was  a spectator 
of  three  fires,  each  of  which  was  said  to  have  destroyed 
upwards  of  10,000  houses,”  — together  about  a tenth 
of  all  the  houses  in  the  city.  These  fires  follow  regular 
tracks,  like  cyclones;  and  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that 
Greater  Toky5  is  practically  a conglomeration  of  vil- 
lages, retaining  all  the  intervening  hills  and  groves  and 
fields,  they  would  be  still  more  disastrous.  A large 
proportion  of  the  city’s  population  depends  for  its  liv- 
ing on  building  up  new  houses  and  streets,  and  these 
strenuously  oppose  all  efforts  to  improve  the  fire-extin- 
guishing service.  In  case  of  fire,  the  victims  generally 
succeed  in  saving  their  few  garments,  mats,  and  kake- 
monos. Their  more  valuable  things  are  kept  in  fire- 
proof kura,  one,  two,  or  three  stories  high,  made  of  mud 


STREET  SCENES  IN  TOKYO 


53 


or  clay,  and  closed  airtight  like  safes.  Hence  a fire  is 
not  so  very  great  a calamity  as  elsewhere,  and  is  apt  to 
be  made  the  occasion  of  a picnic.  The  houses  are  soon 
rebuilt ; and  they  say  it  often  happens  that  one  man’s 
house  is  burned  down  twice  in  one  day,  because  after 
rebuilding  the  shifting  wind  brings  back  the  flames  in 
his  direction.  This  sounds  like  a “ California  story 
but  it  may  be  true,  since  some  of  the  Japanese  keep  in 
stock  the  material  for  complete  houses,  nicely  fitted 
and  finished,  so  that  they  need  only  to  be  put  together 
and  raised  like  tents. 

The  most  ornamental  features  of  Japanese  streets  are 
fortunately  easily  replaced  after  a fire.  I allude  to  the 
shoj)  signs,  — not  the  comic  “Eurasian”  ones,  already 
referred  to,  but  the  large  Japanese  and  Chinese  ideo- 
graphs, drawn  — up  and  down,  of  course  — on  door 
posts,  screens,  paper  lanterns,  and  on  the  backs  of 
coolies.  These  are  real  works  of  art;  but  as  every 
Japanese  is  an  artist  in  chirography,  the  supply  of  such 
decorations  is  limited  only  by  the  demand.  They  are 
usually  in  black,  but  sometimes  gold  or  another  color 
is  used.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it  is  these  signs  that  are 
the  most  Japanese  thing  in  Tokyo. 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


TOKYO  AT  ITS  TOILET  DOGS  AND  CHICKENS  FISH 

MARKET DANGEROUS  WELLS NAP  TIME A FOOLISH 

LAW COOLIES  VERSUS  HORSES STREET  SPRINKLING 

PLANED  ICE STEWED  TEA A CARRIAGE  DRIVE 

WHERE  MISSIONARIES  LIVE SCENES  ABOUT  A BUDDHIST 

TEMPLE RELIGION  AND  FUN ARCHERY  GIRLS A 

NIGHT  CROWD FLOWER  SHOW RIVER  FESTIVAL DAY 

AND  NIGHT  FIREWORKS THE  CITY  BAND 

In  Lotos-Time  the  habit  of  early  rising  has  not  much 
to  commend  itself  in  sultry  Tokyd,  where  refreshing 
sleep  is  attainable  only  in  the  cool  hours  of  the  morning 
dawn.  Yet  it  would  be  a great  mistake  not  to  set  out 
at  least  once  at  six  o’clock,  in  order  to  see  the  city 
waking  up  and  at  its  toilet.  As  Taro  trots  dow'n  the 
deserted  streets  you  have  a good  chance  to  notice  how 
uniformly  clean  they  are  kept,  how  free  from  disagree- 
able odors.  The  law  compels  every  man  to  sweep 
regularly  before  his  house,  and  if  he  fails  to  do  so,  the 
police  swoops  down  on  him.  As  there  are  no  side- 
walks, everybody  walks  in  the  streets  and  wants  them 
clean,  while  the  absence  of  horses  makes  it  compara: 
tively  easy  to  keep  them  so. 

Riding  along  leisurely  in  your  kuruma,  you  will  be 
startled  every  moment  by  the  rattling  noise  of  the 
amado,  or  rain  doors,  being  pushed  aside  to  let  air  and 

54 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


55 


light  into  the  windowless  houses.  We  have  something 
similar  over  some  of  our  shop  windows,  but  as  we  push 
ours  up  and  down,  the  Japanese  of  course  draw  theirs 
to  the  right  or  left,  the  noise  alone  being  the  same  in 
both  cases.  In  other  houses  the  amado  have  already 
been  pushed  aside  for  some  little  time,  and  you  behold 
a merchant  arranging  his  goods  or  a family  group 
drinking  thimble  cups  of  tea  and  demolishing  bowls  of 
hot,  snowy  rice  with  the  aid  of  wooden  chopsticks ; or 
a man  stretched  on  his  back,  knocking  the  ashes  out 
of  his  early  pipe,  making  mien  to  get  up  from  his  hard 
couch ; or  a young  girl  kneeling  before  her  metal  mir- 
ror arranging  her  toilet,  stripped  to  the  waist  and  see- 
ing no  more  impropriety  in  the  fact  than  the  passers  by 
do ; besides  other  domestic  scenes  which  in  our  houses 
are  enacted  only  behind  curtains. 

In  the  streets,  at  this  hour,  you  will  see  few  human 
beings,  except,  perhaps,  some  women  SAveeping  the  street 
before  their  houses,  or  a policeman,  or  an  occasional 
coolie,  with  or  without  a kuruma.  Yet  the  streets  are 
not  deserted,  for  this  is  chicken  hour ; every  street  is 
being  scavenged  by  hens,  whose  eggs  are  doubtless  a 
welcome  addition  to  the  scant  larder.  We  have  been 
followed  by  one  of  our  harmless  hotel  dogs,  and  at  one 
place  he  scares  the  hens  and  their  lordly  rooster  into  a 
noisy  panic,  which  brings  out  the  owners,  with  anxious 
faces,  to  see  who  is  disturbing  their  pets.  All  this  in 
the  centre  of  Tokyo. 

A glance  at  the  pocket  dictionary,  and  a word  to  Taro 
makes  him  turn  about.  Ere  long  we  find  ourselves  at 
the  fish  market.  Fish  and  rice  being  to  the  Japanese 
what  beef  and  potatoes  are  to  the  English,  I felt  sure 
that  the  Tokyo  fish  market  would  present  a large  variety 


56 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


of  odd  piscatorial  sights.  Experts  say  that  no  part  of 
the  ocean  has  so  rich  an  assortment  and  such  large 
numbers  of  fish  as  the  Japanese  waters,  which  harbor 
about  four  hundred  species.  I did  not  count  the  species 
exhibited,  but  I saw  many  odd  fish  and  other  sea- 
animals  ; some  of  them  small,  ugly,  slimy  beasts,  which 
it  takes  as  much  courage  to  taste  as  the  man  must  have 
had  who  ate  the  first  oyster  (he  was  probably  a ship- 
wrecked sailor)  ; yet  I afterwards  in  my  travels  tried 
many  of  them,  and  while  some  were  as  tough  as  snails, 
others  were  a welcome  addition  to  my  gastronomic 
experiences.  Some  of  the  fish  were  kept  alive,  as  they 
all  ought  to  be  in  every  fish  market,  and  have  to  be  in 
Berlin  ; others  were  dried  or  smoked.  Eels  seemed  to  be 
in  special  demand.  There  was  a tough-looking  devil- 
fish, of  which  you  could  buy  slices,  either  raw  or  boiled. 
A large  shark  was  also  among  the  delicacies  offered, 
the  carcass  being’  divided  into  sections  commanding 
different  prices,  like  the  sirloin,  tenderloin,  and  round 
steak  of  an  ox.  But  the  strangest  thing  about  this 
market  was  the  utter  absence  of  women.  All  the  buyers 
and  sellers  were  men.  Possibly  this  absence  of  fish- 
women  may  account  for  the  fact  that  the  Japanese  lan- 
guage has  no  terms  of  abuse  and  no  oaths. 

Among  the  objects  likely  to  attract  one’s  attention 
in  the  morning,  when  the  streets  are  deserted,  are  the 
wells.  Although  Tokyo  has  a system  of  waterworks, 
it  is  still  full  of  primitive  wells,  with  plain  wooden 
enclosures,  around  which  the  women  assemble  to  gos- 
sip, fetch  water,  or  wash  their  rice.  It  seems  strange 
that  in  a city  where  sanitation  has  made  so  much  prog- 
ress, these  wells  have  not  all  been  closed  up.  The  dust 
from  the  street  can  settle  down  into  them  all  day  long, 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


57 


and  this,  during  cholera  or  typhoid  time,  when  microbes 
float  in  the  air,  dried  but  still  alive,  may  mean  death  to 
hundreds  of  families.  Artesian  wells  would  be  safe, 
but  there  are  only  a few  of  these  in  the  city.  Fortu- 
nately the  Japanese  are  not  addicted  to  cold  water ; 
they  make  tea  of  it  before  they  drink  it,  and  the  mor- 
tality of  the  city  is  not  remarkably  high,  notwithstand- 
ing these  wells,  the  contents  of  which  have  been  shown 
by  chemical  analysis  to  be  very  impure. 

In  the  early  afternoon  Tokyo  is  as  drowsy  and  de- 
serted as  Andalusian  Seville.  At  that  hour  Taro  is  not 
anxious  to  take  you  out ; he  knows  that  you  would 
suffer  even  more  from  the  sun  while  riding  in  the 
kuruma  than  he  would  in  pulling  it.  He  knows,  too, 
that  there  is  comparatively  little  for  you  to  see,  for  the 
blue  awnings  are  down,  hiding  the  goods  in  the  shops 
and  the  domestic  scenes  in  the  houses,  while  the  streets 
themselves  present  no  human  panorama  for  your  study. 
The  glare  of  the  sun,  as  thrown  back  from  the  un- 
painted sides  of  the  houses,  is  less  painful  than  in 
whitewashed  Cadiz  or  Tangier,  yet  it  tires  the  eyes 
and  begets  a desire  to  sleep ; for,  strange  to  say,  the 
same  heat  which  keeps  us  awake  at  night  compels 
slumber  in  the  daytime.  Even  the  kuruma  runners 
take  their  nap,  stretched  out  on  the  shady  side  of  the 
hotel ; they  are  probably  dreaming  of  the  good  old 
times  when  a tattoed  skin  was  considered  sufficient 
clothing,  whereas  now  they  must  wear  their  blue  jack- 
ets and  trousers  in  deference  to  law  and  the  prejudices 
of  foreigners.  It  does  seem  a cruel  and  foolish  law,  as 
any  one  must  admit  who  has  seen  how  the  perspiration 
runs  in  streams  from  these  coolies,  and  how,  every  now 
and  then,  they  have  to  take  the  cloth  tied  around  the 


58 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


head  (with  a knot  in  front)  and  wring  it  dry,  like  a 
washerwoman  standing  over  her  tub. 

At  four  o’clock  the  sun  is  still  merciless,  but  we  may 
as  well  start,  as  the  distances  are  great.  Pity  for  Taro 
is  apt  to  be  mitigated  both  by  his  own  cheerfulness  and 
by  the  sight  of  other  coolies  whose  task  is  twice  as 
hard.  Man-power  is  applied  to  freight  as  well  as  to 
persons,  and  a frequent  sight  is  a cart  heavily  laden 
with  stones,  slowly  pulled  and  pushed  along  by  two  or 
three  coolies,  whose  veins  on  the  forehead  are  swelled 
to  the  point  of  bursting,  and  who  keep  on  shouting 
“ ho ! huida ! ” when  one  would  think  they  ought  to 
have  sense  enough  to  save  their  breath  for  the  work. 
Perhaps  the  rhythmic  noise  assists  them,  like  sailors. 
These  men  are  often  bareheaded  in  the  broiling  sun, 
and  in  this  respect  are  less  merciful  to  themselves  than 
to  their  beasts  ; for  those  who  are  lucky  enough  to  pos- 
sess an  ox  to  do  their  work,  rarely  neglect  to  protect 
him  from  the  sun  by  means  of  a mat  suspended  over 
him  on  a long  pole.  This  may  be  either  Buddhistic 
kindness  to  animals  or  an  enlightened  utilitarianism. 
But  why  do  we  see  so  few  oxen  and  dray  horses  in 
Japanese  cities?  Probably  because  the  coolies  are  too 
poor  to  buy  and  feed  them.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  their  wages  are  extremely  low,  and  that  fodder  for 
animals  must  be  comparatively  high  in  a country  where 
all  level  ground  is  used  for  rice  or  other  agricultural 
crops,  leaving  no  margin  for  pasturage. 

Occasionally  a horse  is  seen  dragging  along  a primi- 
tive water-cart  for  sprinkling  the  streets — -an  occupa- 
tion in  which  I sometimes  thought  half  the  population 
took  more  or  less  part,  in  one  way  or  another.  Besides 
the  horse -carts  there  were  smaller  carts  drawn  by 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


59 


coolies.  Then  there  were  men  armed  with  buckets 
attached  to  long  poles,  with  which  they  dipped  the 
water  from  the  green  roadside  ditches  and  dashed 
it  into  the  streets.  Elsewhere  several  men  would  carry 
a large  tub  of  water  into  the  middle  of  the  street,  and 
then,  with  small  buckets,  scatter  it  about  in  a circle. 
The  women  also  assisted  in  various  amateur  ways 
in  laying  the  dust,  to  prevent  it  from  flying  into  their 
houses,  and  to  keep  the  air  cool.  Millions  of  gallons  of 
water  must  be  used  up  in  street  sprinkling  on  a mid- 
summer's afternoon,  and  I fancy  that  so  much  of  it  as 
comes  from  the  green  ditches  is  a prolific  source  of 
disease  ; for  it  is  thus  that  the  dried  microbes  of  malaria, 
typhoid,  cholera,  dysentery,  etc.,  get  into  the  dust,  and 
with  it  into  open  wells  and  open  mouths. 

Compared  with  the  watering  cart  and  other  freight- 
coolies,  Taro  is  an  aristocrat.  To  them  his  income  of 
seventy-five  cents  to  one  dollar  a day  must  seem 
princely ; he  can  have  all  the  rice  and  fish  and  sake  he 
wants ; he  can  even  indulge  in  the  buying  of  an  occa- 
sional glass  of  kori.  Kori  is  one  of  the  latest  mid- 
summer fads  in  Japan.  It  is  planed  ice,  served  in 
heaped,  big  tumblers  by  smiling  girls,  in  special  shops. 
When  artificial  ice  was  first  introduced,  not  many  years 
ago,  these  shops  sprang  up  like  mushrooms  on  all  sides. 
Everybody  ate  or  drank  kori  greedily,  and  the  craze 
threatened  to  develop  into  an  epidemic  of  dyspepsia, 
when  the  warning  voice  of  Dr.  Baeltz  of  the  Tokyo 
University  was  raised.  He  intimidated  some,  but  the 
kori  shops  still  flourish  ; and  it  was  amusing  to  see  men, 
women,  and  children  crowding  around  them,  eagerly 
waiting  for  their  glasses  to  be  planed  full,  and  greedily 
devouring  the  noxious  stuff,  either  plain,  or,  if  they 


60 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


could  afford  an  extra  cent,  with  a little  fruit  syrup 
added  for  flavoring. 

Kuruma  runners  are  crazy  for  this  icy  beverage,  and 
if  you  treat  them  to  a glass  they  are  ready  to  take  you 
round  the  world  on  a continuous  trot,  and  with  a per- 
petual smile.  Dripping  with  perspiration,  and  all  out 
of  breath,  they  gulp  it  down  as  fast  as  a Neapolitan 
beggar  does  a plateful  of  free  scalding-hot  macaroni, 
in  order  to  show  a tourist  what  can  be  done  in  that  line. 
The  result  to  teeth  and  digestion  must  be  the  same 
in  both  cases. 

The  Japanese  also  injure  their  health  with  hot 
drinks.  They  undeniably  drink  tea  oftener  than  is 
good  for  their  nerves,  and  one  kind  of  tea  that  they 
favor  must  be  decidedly  injurious.  My  Japanese  friend, 
Mr.  Shugio,  took  Mr.  Blum  and  me  one  afternoon  to 
one  of  the  most  famous  tea  houses,  where  we  had  a taste 
of  that  aristocratic  variety  which  is  made  of  the  most 
delicate  leaves  of  the  most  expensive  plants.  The  neat 
but  airy  little  building  was  surrounded  by  shrubs  in 
a garden  representing  a miniature  landscape,  with  a 
reed-bordered  “ lake  ” in  the  centre,  and  a number  of 
large  stones  for  visitors  to  step  on.  After  walking 
in  our  stocking  feet  through  the  tea  house,  we  sat  on 
the  verandah  facing  the  garden,  where  we  were  enter- 
tained by  the  hostess.  In  the  meantime,  a young  girl 
was  preparing  in  the  kitchen  a puree  of  tea  leaves  of 
which  Laurence  Oliphant  thus  describes  the  process 
of  manufacture : The  leaves  “ are  first  stewed,  then 
dried  and  ground  in  a handmill  into  a powder ; this  is 
mixed  with  hot  water  and  whipped  with  a split  bamboo 
until  it  creams.  It  is  served  up  hot  and  looks  like 
physic.  Altogether,  I thought  it  more  palatable  than 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


61 


senna.  This  delicacy  is  called  koitscha  or  thick  tea.” 
He  adds  that  it  is  “ a beverage  peculiar  to  the  upper 
classes  of  Japan,”  and  I am  sure  the  lower  classes  ought 
not  to  envy  them  this  prerogative.  I would  as  soon 
eat  a salad  made  of  green  hops  as  drink  another  cup 
of  that  tea,  or,  rather,  eat  it,  for  you  swallow  it,  powder 
and  all.  Now,  I believe  that  while  the  phlegmatic 
Turk  may  not  be  hurt  by  drinking  the  dregs  of  his 
coffee,  the  delicate  and  weakly  upper  classes  of  Japan 
are  much  injured  by  eating  nerve-shattering  boiled 
tea  leaves.  However,  they  take  it  only  on  special  occa- 
sions, the  daily,  or  rather  hourly,  beverage  being  a 
weak  infusion  of  ordinary  tea  leaves.  This,  if  properly 
made  with  water  that  has  not  reached  the  boiling  point, 
is  comparatively  harmless.  If  made  with  boiling  water, 
it  becomes  a nasty  decoction  of  tannic  acid,  strong 
enough  to  tan  leather.  I tasted  such  stuff  occasionally 
at  wayside  inns  and  wondered  no  longer  that  statistics 
attribute  one  quarter  of  all  deaths  in  Japan  to  nervous 
diseases.  Another  thing  wherein  Japanese  differs  from 
Chinese  tea  is  that  whereas  in  the  latter,  made  with 
boiling  water,  only  the  first  infusion  is  good,  in  Japa- 
nese tea  the  second  infusion  is  less  bitter  than  the  first, 
and  is  accordingly  preferred.  I once  remonstrated  with 
a Japanese  journalist,  who  was  travelling  with  me,  for 
his  supposed  eponomy  in  pouring  water  a second  time 
on  the  same  tea  in  the  pot;  but  he  laughingly  explained 
that  that  was  better  than  the  first,  being  less  astringent. 

So  far  all  our  excursions  had  been  made  by  kuruma, 
the  most  convenient  and  cheapest  of  local  conveyances. 
But  there  is  one  objection  to  the  man-power  cab:  it  is 
unsocial.  When  several  friends  go  out  together  it  is 
difficult  to  talk  on  the  way,  as  there  is  seldom  room  for 


62 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


two  kurumayas  to  trot  side  by  side.  Accordingly,  for 
a change,  and  to  see  what  it  was  like,  I accepted  an  invi- 
tation one  afternoon  for  a carriage  ride  down  the  river 
and  a call  at  Tsukiji,  the  foreign  concession  of  Tokyo, 
which  it  seemed  proper  to  visit  in  a foreign  conveyance. 
We  drove  some  way  along  the  river,  but  found  it  the 
dullest  part  of  the  city  — rows  of  commonplace  houses, 
with  nothing  to  break  the  monotony  except  an  occa- 
sional tea  house  perched  high  for  the  sake  of  the  view 
and  the  breeze.  We  had,  besides  the  driver,  a runner, 
who  always  got  off  and  ran  ahead  when  we  came  to  a 
corner,  in  order  to  clear  a track  for  us  in  the  crowd. 
That  a carriage  is  still  a rare  sight  here  was  shown  by 
the  curiosity  with  which  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
stopped  and  stared  at  us.  The  horses,  too,  were  evi- 
dently not  used  to  the  rapid  pace  associated  with  a car- 
riage drive,  for  they  easily  got  out  of  breath  and  sweated 
profusely. 

Tsukiji  is  hardly  worth  seeing,  except  as  a historic 
curiosity.  As  the  name  implies,  this  corner  of  Tokyo 
is  “made  ground,”  — an  embankment  made  on  the  tidal 
soil  near  the  mouth  of  the  Sumida  River.  It  has  the 
reputation  of  being  a not  particularly  healthy  part  of 
the  city,  though  it  has  been  greatly  improved  of  late. 
It  certainly  must  have  been  unhealthy  at  the  time  when 
it  was  selected  for  the  foreign  colony’s  place  of  exile. 
Like  the  site  of  Yokohama,  it  was  originally  a swamp, 
a coincidence  which  might  suggest  the  suspicion  that 
perhaps  the  Japanese  officials  chose  these  spots  in  the 
hope  that  malaria  would  help  them  to  get  rid  of  the  then 
unwelcome  foreigners.  To  this  day  no  foreigner  can  buy 
property  or  rent  a private  residence  in  any  part  of  the  city 
excepting  Tsukiji,  unless  he  happens  to  be  a government 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


63 


employee,  in  which  case  he  can  at  any  rate  rent  a house 
wherever  he  pleases.  The  streets  in  Tsukiji  are  wide 
and  clean,  and  the  foreign-style  hut  low  houses  are  sur- 
rounded by  gardens  and  shady  trees.  Mere  live  princi- 
pally merchants  and  missionaries,  who  are  not  usually 
on  the  most  amicable  terms.  A missionary  will  perhaps 
tell  you  of  merchants  who  keep  several  mistresses  and 
change  them  every  month,  while  a merchant  will  retali- 
ate by  telling  you  of  a missionary  who  lives  at  a certain 
hotel  paying  twenty-five  dollars  a day  for  himself  and 
family  — “ money  which  was  sent  here  for  the  conversion 
of  the  Japanese  to  Christianity.” 

Christian  Tsukiji  is  simply  a slice  of  Europe  or 
America  on  Japanese  soil,  as  “ Chinatown  ” is  a section 
of  Pekin  dropped  in  the  centre  of  San  Francisco.  To 
the  sightseer  from  abroad  it  therefore  offers  no  special 
attractions,  whereas  the  Buddhist  Asakusa  in  Ueno  Park 
demands  at  least  one  afternoon.  It  is  like  a free  theat- 
rical performance,  partly  in  temples,  partly  in  the  grounds 
around  them,  representing  Japanese  life  in  some  of  its 
most  picturesque  aspects.  I have  no  desire  to  describe 
once  more  what  has  been  done  so  vividly  and  comprehen- 
sively by  Mr.  Griffis  ; but  what  an  extraordinary  specta- 
cle it  is  ! what  a deference  to  the  world,  the  flesh,  and 
the  devil  in  the  very  temple  of  religion  ! A New  Yorker 
might  get  a faint  idea  of  it  by  imagining  a Chinese 
pagoda  and  temple  in  Central  Park : inside  the  cere- 
monial of  a Catholic  Cathedral,  and  midsummer 
Coney  Island  in  full  blast  on  the  outside.  Within  the 
temple  there  are  officiating  priests,  with  their  idols, 
candles,  and  incense  ; demons  to  be  propitiated ; votive 
tablets  and  colossal  paper  lanterns  ; devout  worshippers 
calling  the  gods’  attention  to  their  prayers  by  striking 


64 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


a bell,  and  clapping  their  hands  to  let  them  know  when 
they  are  through ; others  writing  their  prayers  on  slips 
of  paper  which  they  chew  and  spit  at  the  idol,  hoping 
that  it  may  stick,  which  indicates  that  the  prayer  has 
been  heard ; others  again  touching  some  idol  and  then 
themselves  at  a corresponding  spot,  in  the  belief  that  a 
local  disease  will  thus  be  cured  (whereas  in  truth 
nothing  could  be  better  calculated  to  spread  disease); 
and  so  on  through  the  whole  gamut  of  superstition. 
The  Buddhists  are  even  more  liberal  than  the  Catholics 
of  southern  Europe  in  allowing  sightseers  to  walk 
about  admiring  the  treasures  of  art  even  while  the 
service  is  going  on.  Outside  of  the  temples  there  are 
flocks  of  sacred  pigeons  and  other  birds ; old  women 
selling  peas  and  beans  to  feed  them  with ; rows  of 
booths  where  you  can  buy  charms,  toys,  hairpins,  pho- 
tographs, and  things  to  eat ; monkey  shows,  theatrical 
stalls,  singing  and  dancing  exhibitions,  shooting  gal- 
leries — all  these  having  been  from  time  immemorial  the 
surroundings  of  great  Buddhist  temples,  although  in 
Tokyo  the  u Coney  Island  ” features  appear  to  have 
been  somewhat  repressed  in  recent  years.  I must  add 
that  there  is  perhaps  nothing  in  the  Buddhist  temples 
of  Japan  which  seems  more  odd  and  incongruous  to 
us  than  the  electric  light  which  has  found  its  way  into 
some  of  them. 

Following  the  example  of  the  Japanese,  we  went 
straight  from  the  temple  to  an  archery  gallery,  in  a 
region  where  there  was  a whole  street  of  them.  As  we 
were  taking  off  our  shoes  preparatory  to  crawling  in 
and  squatting  on  the  clean  mats,  an  old  woman  in  rags 
planted  herself  before  the  booth  and  sang  a song  as 
ugly  as  her  face,  accompanying  herself  with  the  Japa- 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


65 


nese  “banjo,”  or  samisen.  We  gave  her  a few  pennies 
(enough  to  support  her  for  several  clays),  not  for  her 
music,  but  in  view  of  the  fact  that  thirty  years  before 
she  may  have  been  as  pretty  as  the  three  young  maidens 
of  fourteen  or  fifteen  who  brought  us  tea  and  smoking 
materials.  After  we  had  refreshed  ourselves  they 
handed  us  light  bamboo  bows  and  tiny  arrows,  where- 
with we  so  successfully  and  continuously  missed  the 
mark,  that  ere  long  we  adopted  the  lazy  Oriental  way 
of  letting  the  girls  do  the  shooting  for  us.  Why  not, 
since  we  had  to  pay  for  it  anyway  ? It  was  fascinating 
to  see  how  gracefully  they  shot  the  arrows,  and  how 
often  they  hit  the  mark ; nor  was  it  in  the  least  uncom- 
fortable to  recline  and  have  one  girl  fan  you  while  the 
other  shot  the  arrows.  They  were  so  sweet  and  win- 
some, and  smiled  so  bewitchingly,  that  it  seemed  cruel 
not  to  be  able  to  talk  to  them  except  with  the  aid  of 
Taro’s  very  limited  vocabulary.  While  we  were  there, 
only  one  Japanese  - guest  came  in.  He  looked  solemn 
and  stolid,  smoked  his  thimble  pipe  and  sipped  his 
yellow  tea  in  silence,  while  the  girls,  after  supplying 
his  simple  wants,  paid  no  further  attention  to  him  — 
possibly  because  he  would  pay  only  a few  cents,  while 
we  paid  a dollar,  of  which  Taro,  I fancy,  pocketed  one- 
half  ; but  since  he  was  interpreter  as  well  as  guide,  he 
deserved  an  extra  fee.  When  we  left,  the  maidens 
prostrated  themselves  on  the  mats,  and  there  was  no 
end  to  their  sayonara  (good  by)  and  irasshai  (come 
again).  It  was  here  that  Taro  informed  me  so  promptly 
that  I might  cut  the  girl’s  throat. 

Evening  excursions  are  in  midsummer  Tokyo  more 
interesting  than  afternoon  rides  and  calls.  In  the  cool 
night  air  some  of  the  avenues  are  crowded  till  mid- 


66 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


night.  On  account  of  these  crowds,  it  is  advisable  for 
two  sightseers  to  go  out  together,  with  two  kurumas 
and  runners.  Taro  and  his  companion  had  an  ingenious 
method  on  such  occasions.  There  are  streets  where 
the  crowds  are  so  dense  that  kurumas  are  not  allowed 
to  enter,  a policeman  being  on  hand  to  enforce  the  rule. 
As  we  wanted  to  mingle  with  this  populace,  we  got  off, 
one  of  the  men  took  the  empty  kurumas  through  another 
street  to  a place  where  Taro  arranged  to  meet  him, 
whereupon  he  played  the  r61e  of  guide  and  steered  us 
to  the  various  points  of  interest.  In  one  street  where 
there  were  small  theatres  similar  to  those  we  had  seen  in 
Yokohama,  we  had  positively  to  squeeze  our  way  through 
the  crowd  ; and  this  was  an  ordinary  night,  not  a holiday. 
The  shows  were  a little  bigger  and  more  numerous  than 
at  Yokohama,  but  the  sights  were  similar,  and  need  not 
be  described  again.  Everything  was  on  a more  metro- 
politan scale  than  at  Yokohama,  and  the  variety  of 
sights  in  shops,  tea  houses,  and  open-air  booths  pro- 
portionately greater.  The  shops  wpre  lighted  with 
gay  paper  lanterns,  while  the  booths  that  were  erected 
in  two  rows  in  some  of  the  wider  streets,  were  illumi- 
nated with  torches.  An  endless  variety  of  fancy  toys 
for  the  children,  and  hairpins  for  the  women,  seemed 
to  constitute  the  principal  stock  in  trade  of  these  stalls. 

One  of  the  incidents  I remember  is  a woman  buying 
a glass  globe  no  larger  than  an  orange,  with  a small 
goldfish  in  it.  She  looked  happy  over  her  purchase, 
but  it  did  not  seem  quite  in  accordance  with  Buddhist 
principles  to  give  a poor  fish  so  little  elbow-room  — or 
tail-room,  one  ought  perhaps  to  say.  I bought  a few 
toys  for  some  children  who  were  looking  at  them  long- 
ingly, and  was  abundantly  rewarded  by  their  grateful 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


67 


smiles  and  graceful  bows.  I wish  American  children 
could  bow  so  prettily.  One  of  the  clerks  at  the  hotel 
had  two  little  girls,  apparently  twins,  to  whom  I never 
failed  to  bow  whenever  I saw  them,  and  they  always 
returned  the  bow  with  the  most  fascinating  girlish 
grace  and  Oriental  gravity. 

During  a whole  evening  thus  spent  in  the  most  popu- 
lous streets,  we  did  not  see  a single  foreigner,  and  very 
few  Japanese  in  foreign  costume,  and  those  invariably 
men.  Almost  all  of  the  men  and  women  walked  bare- 
headed, not  one  in  a hundred  having  a hat.  The  men 
rarely  took  any  notice  of  us,  while  many  of  the  women 
turned  to  stare  in  a surprised  and  almost  startled  way. 
Women  being  more  conservative  than  men,  many  of 
them  doubtless  still  look  on  foreigners  as  being  the 
fiends  and  ogres  they  were  supposed  to  be  during 
Japan’s  long  seclusion  from  the  world.  It  is  said  that 
in  the  country  even  now  some  Japanese  children  scream 
and  run  away  in  terror  at  first  sight  of  a foreigner. 
This  never  happened  to  me,  doubtless  because  I am 
somewhat  less  ferocious  and  diabolical  in  appearance 
than  most  of  my  compatriots. 

One  narrow  street  was  given  up  almost  entirely,  for 
a long  distance,  to  a flower  show,  being  lined  on  both 
sides  with  pots  containing  flowering  plants  or  feathery 
ferns,  or  small  pines  resembling  ferns  in  softness  of 
texture  and  delicacy  of  structure,  or  trees  dwarfed  and 
cut  into  various  fancy  shapes,  illumination  being  sup- 
plied by  lamps  stuck  on  bamboo  sticks.  The  owners 
kept  the  plants  fresh  by  frequently  taking  a mouth- 
ful of  water,  as  a Chinaman  does  in  his  laundry,  and 
sprinkling  them  with  a fine  spray.  (I  have  heard  of  a 
Chinese  cook  being  detected  in  making  biscuits  that 


68 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


way.)  Down  this  street  men  and  women  walked 
slowly,  stooping  every  liow  and  then  to  examine  a 
choice  flower  or  arrangement  of  twigs  and  leaves.  On 
the  exhibition  grounds,  the  day  before,  I had  watched 
a floral  expert  arranging  some  of  the  potted  plants, 
which  he  did  with  the  same  care  and  attention  to 
detail  that  an  artist  would  use  in  putting  a flowering 
plant  on  his  canvas.  He  would  give  this  leaf  or  that 
flower  a different  inclination  to  one  side,  or  up  or 
down ; then  he  would  step  hack  a yard  or  two  and  take 
a critical  look  at  it ; one  more  twist  of’  a twig  or  leaf, 
and  the  plant  looked  as  if  it  had  grown  up  in  nature’s 
garden,  untouched  by  man. 

If  the  Japanese  are  not  remarkably  devout  in  their 
attitude  towards  the  gods  of  their  pantheon,  they  make 
up  for  it  by  their  worship  of  flowers  and  other  phenom- 
ena of  nature,  especially  the  mountains  and  the  rivers. 
In  a preceding  paragraph  I spoke  rather  disrespectfully 
of  the  Sumida  River,  but  I discovered  that  during  Lotos- 
Time  there  is  an  annual  festival  in  honor  of  this  river 
and  its  deity,  when  it  presents  a scene  more  fairy-like 
and  suggestive  of  another  planet  tharheven  the  streets  of 
Tokyo  ever  do.  I was  lucky  enough  to  be  in  the  city 
at  the  proper  time  and  gladly  accepted  an  invitation 
from  Mr.  Blum  to  this  river  picnic,  which  proved  to 
be  one  of  the  most  picturesque  and  unique  of  my 
experiences  in  Japan.  Hiring  a barge,  — which  had  to 
be  secured  days  in  advance,  so  great  is  the  demand 
for  boats  on  this  popular  occasion,  — we  secured  two 
coolies,  one  to  steer,  the  other  to  push  us  with  a long 
pole,  and  thus  moved  down  a canal,  past  dingy  ware- 
houses and  rather  Venetian-looking  staircases  leading 
up  to  the  street  through  high  walls  from  the  water. 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


69 


Dusky  figures  were  lounging  or  sleeping  at  various 
places,  enjoying  a greater  degree  of  agreeable  nudity 
than  would  be  allowed  in  an  Italian  city.  We 
passed  under  a number  of  bridges,  arched  and  massive, 
and  the  further  we  got,  the  more  numerous  became  the 
boats  of  all  sizes,  some  two-storied,  and  all  of  them 
filled  with  happy,  expectant  Japanese,  so  that  when  we 
finally  reached  the  river  itself  it  required  careful  steer- 
ing to  make  our  way  through  them. 

It  was  still  broad  daylight  when  we  carne  to  our 
anchorage,  and  hardly  had  we  reached  our  destination 
when  surprise  number  one  was  let  loose  in  the  shape 
of  fireworks.  We  perverse  Occidentals  associate  fire- 
works with  night : consequently  the  Japanese  have  them 
in  the  daytime,  as  a matter  of  course.  Up  goes  a 
rocket  with  a whish-h-h ; and  as  it  explodes  in  the  air 
a large  bird  emerges  from  the  smoke  and  slowly  circling, 
sinks  to  the  ground.  Other  rockets  carried  up  bits  of 
paper  which  on  exploding  in  the  air  took  the  form 
of  a flock  of  pigeons,  or  of  a horse,  or  of  two  boxers, 
or  of  a dragon  unfolding  its  long  tail.  The  birds 
were  in  five  colors,  and  among  them  were  of  course 
the  irrepressible  crows,  which  infest  the  whole  country. 
As  the  twilight  deepened,  the  exhibition  changed  to 
regular  fireworks,  as  we  understand  the  word.  Some 
of  these  were  very  fine,  especially  a golden  weeping 
willow,  and  a medley  of  various  colored  ribbons  floating 
away  slowly;  but  as  a whole  the  nocturnal  fireworks 
were  not  equal  to  our  best,  possibly  because  such 
displays  are  very  expensive.  Who  paid  for  those  we 
saw  I could  not  find  out,  as  we  paid  no  admission 
fee,  and  apparently  no  one  else  did.  Asiatic  patience 
had  abundant  opportunity  to  manifest  itself,  for  the 


70 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


intervals  between  rockets  were  from  five  to  ten  minutes. 
Imagine  liow  impatient  an  American  or  an  English 
audience  would  get  under  such  circumstances,  not  to 
speak  of  Spanish  spectators,  who  like  to  have  their 
fireworks  go  off  all  at  once,  like  their  own  impetuous 
passions.  The  Japanese  prefer  to  dally  with  their 
pastimes,  and  they  are  wise.  We  are  too  apt  to  gulp 
down  our  pleasures  as  a dog  does  his  dinner. 

For  the  Japanese  the  show  was  principally  in  the  air, 
hut  to  us  the  centre  of  attraction  was  the  river,  with  its 
thousands  of  boats,  the  bridges  and  the  river  banks 
jammed  with  spectators,  who  also  crowded  the  over- 
hanging tea  houses,  which  were  gaily  decorated  with 
colored  paper  lanterns.  As  it  grew  darker,  the  upper 
rows  of  these  lights  seemed  to  be  suspended  in  the  air 
without  support,  as  they  emitted  just  enough  light  to 
make  the  surrounding  darkness  visible.  Each  of  the 
boats,  too,  had  from  one  to  a dozen  or  more  colored 
lanterns,  which  dotted  the  darkness  as  far  as  eye  could 
see.  Surely  the  canals  of  Venice,  in  the  palmiest  days 
of  Oriental  trade,  never  witnessed  a more  striking 
scene  ; and  surely  the  suggestion  for  those  “ Venetian 
nights  ” must  have  come  from  the  Far  East. 

In  calling  this  festival  a river  picnic,  I meant  exactly 
what  I said.  All  about  us  the  Japanese  (we  saw  no 
foreigners)  were  picnicking.  In  these  diverse  supper 
scenes,  it  was  curious  to  see  the  mixture  of  foreign  with 
native  elements,  less  in  the  food,  however,  than  in  the 
implements.  Chopsticks  were  universal,  no  knives, 
forks,  or  spoons  being  in  use  on  any  of  the  boats  we 
passed.  The  food  was  in  lacquer  boxes,  but  in  place  of 
the  pretty  lacquer  sake  (or  wine)  cups  and  sake  jars, 
coarse  foreign  glass  bottles  and  tumblers  were  in  use 


PLEASURE  BOAT 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


71 


everywhere.  Our  own  boatmen  had  a large  bottle 
which  they  rinsed  in  the  dirty  river  water  (we  had  just 
passed  a dead  dog),  and  then  had  it  filled  with  some 
mysterious  liquid  by  a man  who  came  forward  in  a sort 
of  buffet  boat  with  all  sorts  of  supplies,  solid  and 
liquid.  Their  piece  de  resistance  was  green  beans 
boiled  on  the  stalk  and  eaten  from  the  pods,  as  we  eat 
green  corn. 

One  of  the  larger  boats  was  provided  with  two  ropes 
meeting  at  the  top,  like  an  inverted  V,  and  adorned 
with  the  flags  of  all  nations  in  picturesque  confusion  of 
colors.  The  Japanese  flag  was  on  top,  and  after  it  came 
the  American,  but  upside  down,  as  a matter  of  course. 
It  must  be  extremely  annoying  to  the  Japanese  to  see 
us  float  our  flag  wrong  side  up,  with  our  usual  Occi- 
dental topsy-turviness.  This  boat  belonged  to  the  city 
band,  which  played  Japanese  and  European  music  alter- 
nately. They  played  all  of  our  cheap  national  tunes, 
the  vulgarity  of  which  probably  escapes  their  notice  at 
present.  During  an  intermission  the  leader  of  the  band 
came  over  to  us  in  a row  boat,  presenting  his  card,  on 
which  we  read  in  English  that  these  musicians  can  be 
hired  three  hours  for  $15,  and  a whole  day  for  $30. 
The  Japanese  crowd,  while  it  applauded  the  best  effects 
of  the  fireworkers,  paid  little  attention  to  the  band,  but 
some  of  them  had  on  their  own  boats  music  more  to  their 
taste ; namely,  pretty  geishas  singing  to  the  accompa- 
niment of  their  samisens.  On  one  boat  there  was  a 
pretty  pantomimic  dance  by  geishas,  and  in  another,  a 
regular  theatrical  performance,  to  judge  by  the  gaudy 
costumes  and  the  peculiar  Chinese  intonation  of  those 
who  took  part  in  it.  On  some  of  the  boats,  a simple 
drum  or  horn  supplied  the  needful  noise.  The  Japanese 


72 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


love  thus  to  transform  tlieir  boats  into  temporary  tea 
houses,  with  all  that  the  name  implies.  Netto  relates 
that  the  river  (here  about  a thousand  feet  wide)  is 
sometimes  so  densely  crowded  with  boats  that  it  forms 
a favorite  sport  of  some  young  men  to  cross  it  dry  shod 
by  stepping  from  boat  to  boat.  “ They  seem  in  no 
great  hurry,  and  if  they  should  happen  to  come  upon  a 
particularly  merry  party,  with  plenty  of  wine,  pretty 
girls,  and  clever  dancers,  they  are  not  at  all  averse  to 
accepting  the  polite  invitation  to  remain.’’ 

We  happened  to  be  moored  next  to  the  boat  of  a 
Japanese  nobleman,  who  introduced  himself,  and  gave 
us  his  card,  — Japanese  on  one  side,  and  Le  Baron  X. 
on  the  other.  He  spoke  French  ; and,  after  some  gen- 
eral remarks,  expressed  his  opinion  that  the  Japanese 
got  all  their  civilization  from  us , against  which  I 
protested  vigorously,  insisting  that  in  their  love  of  art 
and  nature,  their  avoidance  of  any  display  of  wealth, 
and  their  courtesy  and  refinement  of  manners,  they 
were  infinitely  superior  to  us  as  a nation ; adding  that 
there  was  danger  that  our  civilization,  imposed  on  them 
so  abruptly,  might  make  them  less  contented  and 
happy.  I called  his  attention  to  the  utter  absence  of 
ruffians  and  rude  actions  in  this  picnic  crowd,  as 
compared  with  scenes  to  be  witnessed  near  New  York, 
London,  and  Paris ; emphasizing  especially  the  excellent 
behavior  of  the  young  people,  and  the  absence  of 
scenes  of  vulgar  flirtation  such  as  would  make  a noc- 
turnal water  picnic  in  those  cities  an  occasion  to  be 
avoided  by  refined  people.  The  Baron  told  me  he  had 
a son  in  our  naval  school  at  Annapolis.  Another  of 
his  sons  was  with  him,  and  spoke  English ; while  his 
daughter,  a winsome  but  delicate  looking  girl  of  about 


FROM  MORNING  TILL  MIDNIGHT 


73 


seventeen,  spoke  French  quite  well,  and  seemed  to  be 
not  at  all  averse  to  conversation  with  a foreigner.  She 
informed  me,  however,  that  it  was  more  usual  for 
young  ladies  of  her  class  to  learn  English  than  French. 
She  herself  would  have  been  glad,  she  said,  to  finish 
her  education  at  one  of  our  female  colleges,  hut  her 
father  did  not  wish  more  than  one  of  his  children  to 
be  across  the  ocean  at  the  same  time.  One  of  her 
friends  was  then  at  Bryn  Mawr. 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


BEAUTY  OF  JAPANESE  WOMEN BRUNETTES  ONLY WAIT- 
ING MAIDS  AND  SINGING  GIRLS LIKE  THE  ANCIENT 

GREEKS AN  ESTHETIC  BANQUET MUSIC  AND  BANTER 

FIRE  BOXES RICE  WINE SOUP  AND  FISH CHOP- 
STICKS  DANCING  AND  DRUMS  — r-  GILDED  VICE A SLAVE 

MARKET TRAP  FOR  CRIMINALS 

Two  hundred  years  ago  Kaempfer,  who  first  described 
for  Europeans  the  manners  and  customs  of  Japan,  wrote 
that  the  women  of  Saga,  on  the  Inland  Sea  of  Japan, 
were  “ handsomer  than  those  of  any  other  Asiatic  coun- 
try.” In  1876  Mr.  W.  E.  Griffis  was  led  to  declare  that, 
“the  fairest  sights  in  Japan  are  Japan’s  fair  daughters.” 
In  1892  Mr.  Henry  Norman,  in  describing  the  “Real 
Japan,”  said, that  “ if  Japanese  women  generally  adopt 
foreign  dress,  the  stream  of  foreign  visitors  will  turn 
aside  from  Japan”  ; thereby  implying  that  these  women, 
with  their  picturesque  costumes  and  ways,  are  the  prin- 
cipal attraction  to  tourists.  I quite  agree  with  him  in 
this,  as  well  as  in  his  assertion  that  “ prettiness  is  the 
rule  among  Japanese  women.”  Every  one  interested  in 
this  topic  knows  of  the  rhapsodies  of  Sir  Edwin  Arnold 
over  the  Japanese  musume.  It  is  true  that  tastes  differ; 
some  tourists  have  blatantly  declared  that  there  is 
absolutely  no  female  beauty  in  Japan.  I can  under- 

74 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


75 


stand  these  critics,  but  cannot  sympathize  with  them. 
If  a man’s  taste  leads  him  to  look  upon  a tall,  buxom, 
queenly,  Scandinavian,  English,  or  German  blonde  as 
his  ideal  of  beauty,  he  Avill  be  disappointed  in  Japan, 
for  such  women  do  not  exist  there.  But  if  his  ideal  of 
beauty  is  the  graceful,  elegant,  petite  brunette  of  Anda- 
lusia, his  eyes  will  be  constantly  delighted  in  Japan  by 
visions  of  loveliness  and  grace.  I frankly  confess  that 
what  made  me  plan  my  visit  to  Japan  was  the  knowl- 
edge that  all  the  women  are  built  after  this  type.  And 
I confess,  too,  that  after  a few  weeks  among  these  grace- 
ful, miniature  beauties,  the  few  large  foreign  women  I 
saw  seemed  angular,  ungainly,  plain,  and  masculine. 
Nowhere  on  four  continents  have  I seen  eyes,  black  and 
brown,  more  lovely  in  color  and  shape  than  in  Toky5 
and  Kyoto  ; nowhere  hands  and  wrists  more  delicately 
moulded  ; nowhere  arms  and  busts  more  beautifully 
rounded  ; nowhere  lips  more  refined  and  inviting, 
though  they  are  ignorant  of  the  art  of  kissing ; no- 
where more  perfect  grace  of  attitude  and  gesture, 
above  the  waist.  Their  gait  alone  is  clumsy,  because 
of  their  clogs  and  their  fashion  of  turning  in  the  toes. 
I object  also  to  the  prevalent  use  of  paint  and  powder 
on  cheeks  and  lips,  and  to  the  national  habit  of  combing 
back  the  hair  from  the  forehead.  Were  these  objec- 
tionable habits  amended,  the  obvious  proportion  of 
beauty  would  be  still  greater. 

Unless  he  is  a teacher  or  a missionary,  a foreigner 
in  Japan  finds  it  difficult  to  become  acquainted  with 
women  of  the  better  classes,  who  are  kept  more  or  less 
in  the  background  by  their  lords  and  masters.  It  is 
not  customary  even  for  Japanese  men  to  make  calls  on 
the  women  of  other  families,  and  when  a Japanese 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


BEAUTY  OF  JAPANESE  WOMEN BRUNETTES  ONLY WAIT- 
ING MAIDS  AND  SINGING  GIRLS LIKE  THE  ANCIENT 

GREEKS AN  ESTHETIC  BANQUET MUSIC  AND  BANTER 

FIRE  BOXES RICE  WINE SOUP  AND  FISH CHOP- 
STICKS  DANCING  AND  DRUMS  — r-  GILDED  VICE A SLAVE 

MARKET TRAP  FOR  CRIMINALS 

Two  hundred  years  ago  Kaempfer,  who  first  described 
for  Europeans  the  manners  and  customs  of  Japan,  wrote 
that  the  women  of  Saga,  on  the  Inland  Sea  of  Japan, 
were  “ handsomer  than  those  of  any  other  Asiatic  coun- 
try.” In  1876  Mr.  W.  E.  Griffis  was  led  to  declare  that, 
uthe  fairest  sights  in  Japan  are  Japan’s  fair  daughters.” 
In  1892  Mr.  Henry  Norman,  in  describing  the  “Real 
Japan,”  said, that  “ if  Japanese  women  generally  adopt 
foreign  dress,  the  stream  of  foreign  visitors  will  turn 
aside  from  Japan”  ; thereby  implying  that  these  women, 
with  their  picturesque  costumes  and  ways,  are  the  prin- 
cipal attraction  to  tourists.  I quite  agree  with  him  in 
this,  as  well  as  in  his  assertion  that  “ prettiness  is  the 
rule  among  Japanese  women.”  Every  one  interested  in 
this  topic  knows  of  the  rhapsodies  of  Sir  Edwin  Arnold 
over  the  Japanese  musume.  It  is  true  that  tastes  differ; 
some  tourists  have  blatantly  declared  that  there  is 
absolutely  no  female  beauty  in  Japan.  I can  under- 

74 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


75 


stand  these  critics,  but  cannot  sympathize  with  them. 
If  a man’s  taste  leads  him  to  look  upon  a tall,  buxom, 
queenly,  Scandinavian,  English,  or  German  blonde  as 
his  ideal  of  beauty,  he  Avill  be  disappointed  in  Japan, 
for  such  women  do  not  exist  there.  But  if  his  ideal  of 
beauty  is  the  graceful,  elegant,  petite  brunette  of  Anda- 
lusia, his  eyes  will  be  constantly  delighted  in  Japan  by 
visions  of  loveliness  and  grace.  I frankly  confess  that 
what  made  me  plan  my  visit  to  Japan  was  the  knowl- 
edge that  all  the  women  are  built  after  this  type.  And 
I confess,  too,  that  after  a few  weeks  among  these  grace- 
ful, miniature  beauties,  the  few  large  foreign  women  I 
saw  seemed  angular,  ungainly,  plain,  and  masculine. 
Nowhere  on  four  continents  have  I seen  eyes,  black  and 
brown,  more  lovely  in  color  and  shape  than  in  Toky5 
and  Kyoto  ; nowhere  hands  and  wrists  more  delicately 
moulded  ; nowhere  arms  and  busts  more  beautifully 
rounded ; nowhere  lips  more  refined  and  inviting, 
though  they  are  ignorant  of  the  art  of  kissing ; no- 
where more  perfect  grace  of  attitude  and  gesture, 
above  the  waist.  Their  gait  alone  is  clumsy,  because 
of  their  clogs  and  their  fashion  of  turning  in  the  toes. 
I object  also  to  the  prevalent  use  of  paint  and  powder 
on  cheeks  and  lips,  and  to  the  national  habit  of  combing 
back  the  hair  from  the  forehead.  Were  these  objec- 
tionable habits  amended,  the  obvious  proportion  of 
beauty  would  be  still  greater. 

Unless  he  is  a teacher  or  a missionary,  a foreigner 
in  Japan  finds  it  difficult  to  become  acquainted  with 
women  of  the  better  classes,  who  are  kept  more  or  less 
in  the  background  by  their  lords  and  masters.  It  is 
not  customary  even  for  Japanese  men  to  make  calls  on 
the  women  of  other  families,  and  when  a Japanese 


76 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


friend  invites  you  to  dine  with  him,  he  takes  you,  not 
to  his  house,  but  to  a restaurant,  where  his  wife  and 
daughter  do  not  accompany  him,  as  he  does  not  wish 
them  to  associate  with  the  possibly  frail  beauties  who 
help  to  enliven  tea-house  dinners.  For,  while  the 
Japanese  have  never  been  cannibals,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  the  principal  ingredients  in  their  tea-house 
meals  are  tender  young  girls  — pretty  waiting  maids  to 
serve  the  dishes,  and  educated  geishas  to  sing,  play, 
dance,  and  enliven  the  conversation  with  their  spicy 
wit  and  merry  laughter. 

Under  these  circumstances,  foreign  visitors  — those 
who  reside  in  the  country  a year  or  two,  no  less  than 
tourists  — are  apt  to  get  their  ideas  and  impressions 
of  Japanese  women  principally  at  the  tea  houses.  Nor, 
from  some  points  of  view,  is  this  a disadvantage ; for 
the  waiting  maids  are  chosen  for  their  beauty,  while 
the  geishas,  like  the  hetairai  of  ancient  Greece,  are  not 
only  trained  in  all  the  arts  of  personal  beauty  and 
artistic  fascination,  but  are  so  carefully  educated  that 
in  wit  and  intelligence  they  usually  surpass  the  domes- 
tic women  in  the  quiet  family  circle.  The  geishas  are 
the  brightest  and  most  accomplished  of  all  Japanese 
women,  and  in  making  their  acquaintance  one  meets, 
therefore,  favorable  specimens  of  the  country’s  woman- 
hood, except  in  the  matter  of  frailty  of  character.  Y et 
this  trait  must  not  be  exaggerated,  as  it  is  by  superficial 
observers,  who  confound  the  geisha  with  the  joro.  As 
a class,  geishas  are  perhaps  no  more  frail  than  Euro- 
pean or  American  actresses,  and  the  most  respectable 
men,  native  and  foreign,  never  hesitate  to  have  their 
meals  spiced  by  their  beauty  and  art. 

In  such  matters  women  are  much  severer  judges  than 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


77 


men  ; yet  Miss  Alice  Bacon  says,  in  her  thoroughly  reli- 
able book  on  Japanese  Girls  and  Women , that  — 

“The  geisha  is  not  necessarily  bad,  but  there  is  in  her  life 
much  temptation  to  evil,  and  little  stimulus  to  do  right ; so  that, 
where  one  lives  blameless,  many  go  wrong,  and  drop  below  the 
margin  of  respectability  altogether.  Yet  so  fascinating,  bright, 
and  lively  are  these  geishas,  that  many  of  them  have  been  taken 
by  men  of  good  position  as  wives,  and  are  now  the  heads  of  the 
most  respectable  homes.  ...  The  problem  of  the  geisha  and  her 
fascination  is  a deep  one  in  Japan.” 

The  geishas,  after  having  received  a long  and  careful 
training  in  the  art  of  making  themselves  agreeable  to 
men,  usually  live  at  home  with  their  families.  They 
are  engaged,  as  musicians  and  other  social  entertainers 
are  engaged  by  us,  usually  two  or  more  together,  at  so 
much  an  hour  or  evening ; and  the  place  selected  is 
almost  always  a tea  house,  where  tea,  food,  and  rice 
wine  serve  as  accompaniment  to  the  feast  of  smiles, 
wit,  and  music.  The  combination  cannot  but  be  con- 
sidered a happy  one. 

I said  in  a previous  chapter  that  one  could  live  a 
year  in  Japan  without  ever  tasting  any  of  the  dishes 
peculiar  to  the  country ; and  here  I may  add  that  this 
is  possible  even  in  travelling  in  the  interior,  where 
“ foreign  ” hotels  do  not  exist ; for  in  every  town  of  a 
few  thousand  inhabitants,  you  can  now  buy  Chicago 
canned  meats  and  California  canned  fruits,  besides  bot- 
tled beer  or  ale,  condensed  milk,  jellies,  and  crackers. 
But  a sensible  person  would  no  more  think  of  limiting 
his  gastronomic  experiences  to  these  canned  goods,  and 
such  fresh  meats  and  eggs  as  he  can  get,  than  he  would 
of  confining  his  tours  of  observation  to  Tsukiji  and  the 
foreign  settlement  in  Yokohama.  An  educated  palate 


78 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


delights  in  new  varieties  of  local  flavor  just  as  much  as 
an  educated  pair  of  eyes  delights  in  fresh  local  colors. 

A real  Japanese  banquet  is,  therefore,  from  the  gas- 
tronomic as  Avell  as  the  geisha  point  of  view,  an  indis- 
pensable item  in  the  Tokyo  program,  and  I may  as 
well  add  that  although  the  Japanese  do  not  Usually  take 
their  own  families  to  such  dinners,  there  is  no  reason 
whatever  why  foreign  women  touring  in  the  country 
should  not  attend  them.  They  need  not  fear  the  slight- 
est breach  of  propriety,  and  they  may  be  amused  at  the 
eager  curiosity  with  which  the  geishas  will  examine 
their  earrings,  finger  rings,  and  bracelets,  and  the  child- 
ish delight  they  will  show  if  allowed  to  try  them  on. 
To  see  these  girls  at  their  best,  it  is  needless  to  say  that 
one  or  two  Japanese  who  speak  both  their  and  our  lan- 
guage should  be  among  the  guests. 

My  first  experience  in  the  realms  of  esthetic  Japa- 
nese gastronomy  was  a lunch  or  dinner  given  to  Mr. 
Blum,  myself,  Mr.  Sliugio,  and  another  Japanese  gentle- 
man, by  some  unknown  benefactor  whose  identity  I 
suspect  but  have  not  been  able  to  discover.  We  rode 
in  kurumas  to  a restaurant  in  Shimbashi,  and  were  re- 
ceived at  the  door  by  half-a-dozen  pretty  and  smiling 
maidens.  Leaving  our  shoes  at  the  entrance,  we  were 
escorted,  by  two  of  the  purls,  upstairs,  where  they  had 
reserved  for  us  a large  room,  two  sides  of  which  faced 
a garden  full  of  flowers,  ornamental  stones,  and  trees. 
Here,  at  the  outset,  we  had  the  keynote  of  Japanese 
gastronomy,  which  is  not  merely  an  indulgence  of  the 
palate,  but  quite  as  much,  or  even  more,  a matter  of 
esthetic  enjoyment.  For  here  we  were  surrounded  by 
trees  and  flowers  on  the  outside,  v ’e  within  the  house 
there  were  trees  and  flowers  and  jirds  painted  on  the 


r 


GLIMPSE  OF  AN  INTERIOR 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


79 


screens  that  formed  the  walls  of  our  room.  Still  more 
of  an  esthetic  treat  were  the  girls  in  attendance,  espe- 
cially the  youngest  one,  O Haru,  or  “ Springtime,”  who 
was  quite  a beauty,  with  regular  features,  refined  lips, 
and  large  black  eyes  with  the  merest  suspicion  of 
obliqueness  ; just  enough  to  give  them  a piquant  touch 
of  Orientalism.  Her  smile  was  as  sweet  and  enchant- 
ing as  that  of  a Houri  in  the  Mohammedan  paradise, 
and  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  avoid  falling  in  love 
with  her  at  first  sight  had  she  always  remained  on  her 
knees,  for  from  the  waist  up  she  was  the  perfection 
of  grace ; but  the  effect  was  marred  whenever  she  got 
up  and  walked ; for  her  gait,  like  that  of  all  J apanese 
Avomen,  was  ungraceful,  the  knees  being  too  far  apart, 
and  the  toes  turned  in,  while  her  loose  slippers  flapped 
along  on  the  floor  without  ever  quite  leaving  it,  — all 
these  things  being  prescribed  by  topsy-turvy  Japanese 
etiquette,  with  one  of  those  strange  inconsistencies  in 
taste  of  which  I shall  have  occasion  to  point  out  not  a 
few  in  later  pages. 

There  were,  of  course,  no  chairs  or  tables  in  our  tea 
house,  and  if  we  had  asked  for  a tablecloth  we  would 
have  been  looked  on  as  being  even  greater  greenhorns 
than  we  actually  were.  As  Sir  Edwin  Arnold  has 
pertinently  remarked  of  the  Japanese,  “they  do  not 
make  streets  of  their  homes.”  They  do  not  walk  with 
dirty  boots  on  their  floor  mats,  any  more  than  we  stand 
on  our  chairs  and  sofas.  The  mat  is  their  only  seat  and 
tablecloth,  and  every  meal  is  a sort  of  picnic.  We 
accordingly  found  no  visible  preparations  for  our  ban- 
quet, except  a square  section  of  the  floor  marked  off 
with  four  soft  leather  cushions  for  us  to  kneel  on.  We 
were  prepared  for  any  further  amount  of  topsy-turvi- 


80 


LOTOS -TIME  IN  JAPAN 


ness,  and  it  began  with  the  serving  of  tea  first,  appar- 
ently because  we  serve  coffee  last.  In  Japan  tea  is  the 
beginning  and  end  of  all  things,  and  it  need  not  be  said 
that  it  is  the  esthetic  beverage  par  excellence.  With  the 
yellow  tea  were  served  tiny  wafers,  so  thin  and  unsub- 
stantial that  they  might  be  called  esthetic  too.  These 
wafers  were  sweet  (because  we  reserve  sweets  for  the 
end  of  a meal),  and  of  course  they  were  round,  because 
our  wafers  are  not  round. 

The  next  course  was  again  esthetic.  It  consisted  of 
two  liibachis  or  fire  boxes,  for  lighting  our  cigarettes. 
The  Japanese  use  matches  as  freely  as  we  do,  but  not 
at  meals,  where  they  would  be  voted  vulgar.  The' 
hibaclii  is  made  in  many  varieties,  the  most  popular 
being  a round  vessel  with  live  charcoals  in  the  centre, 
around  which  are  heaped  ashes  in  the  shape  of  a crater. 
This  poetic  arrangement  enables  the  imaginative  Japa- 
nese to  fancy  that  they  are  lighting  their  cigarettes  or 
pipes  at  the  original  fires  of  their  beloved  Fuji,  once  a 
volcano,  now  a snow  peak  lifting  its  summit  above  the 
hills  and  dales  of  the  main  island,  as  a cathedral  spire 
rises  above  the  streets  and  houses  of  a city,  and  doubt- 
less visible  from  our  tea  house  on  a clear  day. 

Again  the  course  following  was  esthetic  ; it  consisted 
of  the  singing  girls  and  samisen  players  who  had  been 
hired  to  supply  the  music  and  smiles.  They  were  of  a 
somewhat  more  intellectual  type  of  beauty  than  the  wait- 
ing maids,  and  also  a few  years  older,  and  less  given  to 
giggling.  That  they  were  bright,  and  saucy  too,  we  soon 
found  out.  The  waiter  girls,  who  had  left  us  the  moment 
the  music  girls  entered,  now  returned  with  small  lacquer 
tables,  five  or  six  inches  high,  and  a foot  in  length  and 
breadth,  one  of  which  was  placed  before  each  of  us, 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


81 


together  with  a dainty  porcelain  bottle  containing  about 
half  a pint  of  hot  sake  or  rice  wine,  and  for  drinking  it, 
a tiny  cup  of  thin  porcelain,  which,  looked  as  if  it  were 
meant  to  hold  our  cigarette  ashes  — mind,  I do  not  say 
cigar  ashes,  for  one  must  not  exaggerate  in  talking  of 
things  Japanese.  The  geishas  filled  these  cups  for  us, 
and  after  drinking  their  health  we  touched  them  to  the 
napkins,  handed  them  to  the  girls,  and  filled  them  up 
for  them  to  drink  to  our  health.  To  fill  your  own  cup 
would  be  considered  bad  form,  but  with  so  many  geishas 
and  waiting  girls  to  vie  with  each  other  in  keeping  the 
cups  filled,  there  was  no  danger  of  violating  the  laws  of 
etiquette  in  that  respect.  I need  hardly  point  out  the 
Orientalism  of  drinking  the  wine  at  so  early  a stage  of 
the  proceedings,  and  hot.  Rice  wine  is  not  even  as 
strong  as  ordinary  claret  or  Rhine  wine,  but  being  taken 
hot,  and  before  eating,  it  produces  an  effect  sooner  than 
it  would  otherwise,  especially  on  the  Japanese,  who  are 
much  more  easily  affected  than  we  are,  and  who  are, 
therefore,  in  refined  circles,  usually  moderate  in  their 
cups. 

While  the  sake  was  being  sampled,  the  geishas  tuned 
up  their  long-necked  samisens,  and  gave  us  some  of 
their  vocal  and  instrumental  music,  which  must  be  an 
acquired  taste,  to  put  it  mildly,  and  which  I shall  not 
attempt  to  describe  in  words,  since  it  cannot  even  be 
reproduced  exactly  in  our  notation.  Piggott  says  that 
the  samisen  is  “irreverently  called  by  some  the  banjo 
of  Japan,  an  instrument  with  which  it  has  no  affinities.” 
But  it  certainly  looks  a good  deal  like  a banjo,  and 
sounds  not  so  very  unlike  one.  Unlike  our  banjo,  its 
body  is  square;  but  there  is  the  same  parchment  face, 
and  an  even  longer  neck.  The  samisens  played  by  our 


82 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


geishas  had  three  silk  strings,  which  they  were  forever 
tuning,  sometimes  in  different  intervals;  and  it  must 
be  admitted  that  they  had  an  excellent  ear  for  pitch. 
They  did  not  pluck  the  strings  with  the  fingers,  but 
with  a plectron,  which  produced  a twangy,  disagree- 
able, hard  tone,  mingled  with  a faint  drum  sound. 
The  sides  of  their  instruments  were  adorned  with 
green  velvet,  and  they  carefully  wiped  the  strings 
before  playing.  So  they  sang  and  strummed  away, 
usually  Avithout  any  rhyme  and  reason  discoverable  to 
a foreign  ear;  but  ever  and  anon  they  fell  into  a polka- 
like rhythm  and  a distinctly  defined  melody,  which 
my  memory  was  able  to  retain.  Their  music  was  all 
melody,  no  chords;  and  when  I took  one  of  the  sami- 
sens  and  played  a few  of  our  simplest  harmonies,  they 
frankly  confessed  that  they  could  hear  nothing  pleas- 
ing in  them.  When  plucked  with  the  fingers,  I found 
that  the  Japanese  samisen  has  a better  tone  than  our 
banjo;  but  the  girls  always  use  the  harsh  plectron. 
Among  the  songs  they  sang  I remember  one  of  a lively 
nature,  in  which  a comic  effect  was  produced  by  means 
of  very  high  glissandos  on  the  instrument.  The  faces 
of  the  geishas  brightened  up,  and  their  eyes  sparkled, 
as  they  became  interested  in  their  music;  but  their 
voices  were  not  so  musical  as  when  they  spoke  or 
laughed.  They  were,  in  truth,  as  nasal  and  twangy  as 
the  tones  of  their  instruments.  Nor  was  there  any 
change  in  loudness. 

So  it  must  be  confessed  that  to  us  the  geishas  were 
more  interesting  personally  than  musically,  nor  was 
this  an  unusual  situation;  for  Professor  Chamberlain 
says  that  the  Japanese  men,  too,  “send  for  singing 
girls  chiefly  in  order  to  ogle  and  chaff  them,  and  to 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


83 


help  along  the  entertainment  by  a little  noise.  To  ask 
the  name  of  the  composer  of  any  tune  the  girls  are 
singing  is  a thing  that  would  never , enter  their  heads.” 
During  the  intermissions  we  plied  the  girls  with  ques- 
tions, and  they  kindly  gave  us  their  opinion  of  our- 
selves. They  wanted  to  know  if  Mr.  Blum  and  I were 
twins,  as  they  could  hardly  tell  us  apart,  although  we 
do  not  in  the  least  resemble  each  other,  except  in  both 
being  blond.  “ One  cannot  distinguish  those  foreign- 
ers, anyway,”  said  one  of  them,  “ they  have  all  such 
prominent  noses.” 

One  of  the  girls  asked  me  how  old  I was.  “ San- 
jiu-go,”  I replied.  “ Thirty-five  ? ” she  echoed,  with  a 
mischievous  smile,  adding  something  which  went  be- 
yond my  knowledge  of  the  vernacular,  but  which  my 
Japanese  friend  interpreted  as  “I  thought  you  were 
at  least  forty.”  Mr.  Shugio  thought  this  was  a “good 
one  ” on  me,  but  lie,  too,  was  fated  not  to  escape.  The 
girls  were  trying  to  recall  the  words  of  a certain  song, 
but  did  not  succeed,  and  finally  appealed  to  Mr.  Shugio, 
who,  by  the  way,  was  only  thirty-six. 

“ Why  do  you  ask  me  ? ” he  inquired. 

“ Oh,”  was  the  answer,  “ it  is  a very  old  song,  and 
we  thought  you  might  remember  it  from  your  youthful 
days.” 

Perhaps  I should  add,  in  elucidation  of  this  con- 
versation, that  a person’s  age  is  a favorite  topic  of 
conversation  in  topsy-turvy  Japan.  On  being  intro- 
duced to  a lady,  you  ask  her  age,  and,  paradox  of 
paradoxes,  she  not  only  is  not  offended,  but  makes  no 
secret  of  it,  though  it  may  be  ever  so  much  above 
twenty. 

Nothing  seemed  to  please  both  the  geishas  and  the 


84 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


tea  girls  so  much  as  to  hear  a few  Japanese  words 
from  foreign  lips.  They,  too,  seemed  to  know  a few 
English  words,  such  as,  “Thank  you,”  “Good  by,” 
“I  love  you.”  Pretty  O Haru  laughed  till  she  had 
to  cover  her  face  to  hide  her  tears,  when  one  of  us 
looked  at  her  with  an  inverted  opera  glass.  Her 
laughter  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  and  contagious 
musical  sounds  I have  ever  heard.  When  one  of 
our  Japanese  friends  threw  a hack  somersault  to 
amuse  the  girls,  they  were  convulsed  with  merriment. 
Obviously,  table  etiquette  is  not  very  rigid  on  such 
occasions. 

But  I must  hasten  on  to  the  solid  part  of  our  repast, 
lest  the  reader  should  fancy  that  a Japanese  banquet  is 
entirely  a matter  of  esthetics,  — of  trees  and  flowers  and 
pictures,  of  yellow  tea,  red  wafers,  and  miniature  craters, 
laughing  black-eyed  tea  girls  and  geishas  with  pretty 
poses,  saucy  wit,  and  Oriental  music.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  apt  to  be  a most  substantial  affair,  consisting  of 
several  compound  courses,  each  of  which  includes  soup 
(we  perversely  have  soup  only  once).  Each  course 
was  brought  in  on  a separate  tray  for  every  diner,  and 
placed  on  his  table ; and  when  the  other  courses  were 
brought  in,  the  earlier  ones  were  not  taken  away,  but 
remained,  so  that  we  could,  after  sampling  all  the  dishes, 
come  back  to  those  we  liked  best.  There  was  only  one 
drawback  to  this  arrangement,  — everything  got  cold, 
— a result  aggravated  by  the  constant  chaffing  and 
laughing,  which  made  of  the  eating  a mere  side-show, 
though  there  were  not  a few  tempting  things  on  our 
trays.  We  had  fish  (cooked,  raw,  and  smoked),  several 
kinds  of  seaweed,  vegetables  (warm,  cold,  or  pickled), 
radishes,  mushrooms,  boiled  bamboo  and  lotos  roots, 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


85 


potatoes,  chicken  and  mutton,  and  several  kinds  of 
mysterious  salads.  I sampled  every  dish,  and  survive 
to  tell  the  tale. 

The  soup  was  served  in  small  lacquer  bowls,  black 
outside,  and  red  inside,  and  had  slices  of  hard-boiled 
eggs,  or  omelette,  or  seaweed,  or  fish  floating  on  top. 
These  solids  we  fished  out  more  Japanico  with  our  chop- 
sticks, while  the  soup  was  drunk  out  of  the  bowls. 
The  girls  at  first  laughed  at  my  attempts  to  use  the 
chopsticks,  and  said  that  I ate  like  a baby , but  they 
kindly  and  gladly  instructed  me  how  to  hold  and  ply 
them.  This  was  my  first  lesson,  and  before  the  end  of 
the  meal  I made  considerable  progress ; but  I never 
quite  acquired  the  skill  of  the  natives,  who  use  their 
sticks  as  deftly  as  storks  use  their  bills  in  fishing  solids 
out  of  the  soup,  in  corraling  the  coy  rice,  and  in  pick- 
ing a small  fish  clean  to  the  skeleton,  which  seems  the 
most  wonderful  feat  of  all.  The  apparent  difficulty 
of  eating  chicken  or  mutton  is  solved  by  having  all 
meat  cut  up  into  small  morsels  before  it  is  sent  to 
the  table;  the  Japanese  being  of  the  opinion  that  all 
carving  and  cutting  should  be  done  by  the  servants 
in  the  kitchen,  since  we  consider  it  more  aristocratic 
to  have  the  joints  and  chickens  set  on  the  table 
whole,  and  carved  and  cut  by  the  host  and  the  guests 
themselves. 

I had  read  so  much  about  rice  as  forming  the  sub- 
stance and  last  course  of  all  Japanese  meals,  that  I was 
surprised  not  to  find  it  included  in  our  menu  at  all.  It 
is,  in  fact,  not  served  at  expensive  dinners  unless  spe- 
cially ordered.  I am  sure  it  was  not  missed  on  this  occa- 
sion, for  of  all  unappetizing  desserts,  rice  without  cream 
and  sugar  (which  are  never  served  with  it  in  Japan) 


86 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


seems  to  me  the  most  insipid.1  The  rice  wine,  on  the 
other  hand,  I found  much  better  than  its  reputation 
among  foreigners,  many  of  whom,  I am  afraid,  tried  it 
once  at  an  inferior  tea  house,  and  never  had  the  courage 
to  repeat  the  experiment.  Ordinary  wayside  sake  is 
indeed  quite  as  bad  as  ordinary  American  beer,  but  the 
more  expensive  brands  are  much  superior  in  taste  and 
less  heady.  Japanese  brewers  are  all  rich  men,  hut 
their  products  differ  as  widely  as  those  of  our  beer 
brewers.  When  Miss  Bird  says  that  sake  is  “faint, 
sickly,  and  nauseous,”  she  speaks  for  herself  only.  Rein 
compares  it  to  the  flavor  of  weak  sherry.  In  truth  the 
flavor  is  unique,  and  can  no  more  be  described  than  the 
taste  of  wine  could  he  described  to  one  who  has  never 
had  any.  It  is  said  that  Japanese  experts  look  for  five 
distinct  tastes  in  good  sake  : “ sweetness,  sharpness, 
sourness,  bitterness,  and  astringency,  with  a flavor  of 
fusel  oil  in  addition.” 

When  we  left  the  tea  house,  at  a late  hour,  all  the 
girls  belonging  to  it  accompanied  us  to  the  street, 
where,  with  many  low  bows,  they  united  in  the  usual 
musical  chorus  of  irasshai  and  sayonara  — “ come 
again,”  and  “good  by.”  We  had  enjoyed  a typical 
Japanese  banquet,  from  which  only  one  customary  in- 
gredient had  been  omitted,  — dancing.  A few  evenings 
later,  I made  up  for  this  omission  by  attending,  with 
some  American  friends,  an  entertainment  specially 
arranged  for  us  by  one  of  the  hotel  clerks,  and  which 

1 1 must  add,  however,  that,  after  some  experience,  I found  that 
plain  Japanese  rice  has  a pleasant,  if  faint  flavor,  which,  I fancied, 
might  so  grow  on  me  that  after  a while  I should  prefer  it  to  our  sweet 
and  flavored  rice  puddings,  even  as  I preferred  their  plain  tea  to  our 
tea  and  cream.  Expert  rice  tasters  can  tell,  like  tea  and  wine  tasters, 
just  what  section  of  the  country  a sample  of  rice  comes  from. 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


87 


consisted  solely  of  music  and  dancing,  the  gastronomic 
element  being  represented  only  by  sake,  tea,  and  cake. 
There  were  again  two  geishas,  i*eady  with  song  and 
samisen,  two  dancers,  and  two  other  young  maidens 
whose  duty  consisted  in  smiling  and  perpetually  bang- 
ing away  at  two  small  but  noisy  drums.  The  dancing 
girls  never  left  their  place,  and  hardly  moved  their 
feet,  their  performance  being,  in  Oriental  fashion,  not 
saltatorial,  but  pantomimic.  By  means  of  facial  ex- 
pression, word,  and  gestures,  and  the  use  of  fans,  they 
enacted  several  tales,  all  of  which  would  not  have  been 
approved  by  missionaries. 

As  for  the  drum  girls,  they  were  at  first  a comic 
curiosity,  but  soon  became  a decided  nuisance,  for, 
armed,  each,  with  two  sticks,  they  belabored  their 
queer,  obliquely  placed  drumheads  fortissimo,  until  my 
tympanum  rang  in  sympathy.  For  half  an  hour  at  a 
time,  without  a second’s  intermission,  they  rapidly  beat 
the  following  rhythm  : — 


c*v  =T1 

-j 

ri  n 

r=| — j— j-i 

k j • H J 

1 I I 

_l  1 1 

F- - * * 

0 9 9 

~9  0 0 

> # ' | 

and  so  on  senza  fine.  Since  drumming  seemed  to 
be  a necessary  feature  of  the  entertainment,  we  did 
not  wish  to  interfere  with  the  program ; but,  re- 
membering that  a room  filled  with  tobacco  smoke 
is  less  offensive  when  you  light  a cigar  of  your 
own,  we  tried  to  apply  this  nasal  experience  to 
the  realm  of  tone,  by  taking  charge  of  the  drums 
ourselves,  to  the  amusement  of  the  girls.  We  found 
drumsticks  much  easier  to  master  than  chopsticks  ; and 
the  noise  really  did  seem  less  offensive  when  we  con- 


88 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


tributed  to  it  ourselves.  But  the  combined  din  of  the 
drums,  samisens,  and  falsetto  geisha  voices  — when  we 
got  up  a grand  ensemble  — was  delightfully  barbarous 
and  picturesquely  diabolical.  The  Chinese,  whenever 
there  is  an  eclipse,  try  to  frighten  away  the  devouring 
shadow  with  their  noisiest  drums  and  tomtoms.  Had 
there  been  an  eclipse  visible  in  Tokyo  at  that  moment, 
I am  sure  the  shadow  of  the  moon  would  have  slunk 
away  in  dismay,  with  its  tail  between  its  legs. 

A little  of  this  sort  of  thing  goes  a great  way,  where- 
fore we  broke  up  early  in  the  evening  in  order  to  get 
a glimpse  of  the  Yoshiwara  on  the  way  home.  The 
singing,  dancing,  and  tea-house  girls  whose  acquaint- 
ance we  had  so  far  made  were,  as  previously  intimated, 
of  a class  the  members  of  which  may  be  entirely  respect- 
able or  partially  so,  in  comparison  with  a more  degraded 
class  of  girls  and  women  who  are  now,  as  they  were  two 
centuries  ago,  confined  by  law  to  a special  district  known 
as  the  Yoshiwara.  Here  vice  is  indeed  gilded.  Prop- 
erty is  said  to  be  worth  four  times  as  much  as  in  most 
other  parts  of  the  city,  and  nowhere  else  are  the  houses 
so  high  and  so  costly  in  appearance.  Besides  some 
shorter  streets,  there  is  one  long  avenue,  consisting  of 
two  rows  of  palaces,  brilliantly  illuminated  at  night. 
In  the  case  of  the  largest  and  most  sumptuous  of  these 
buildings  there  is  nothing  to  indicate  their  character 
from  without,  whereas  in  the  more  humble  ones  the 
ground  floor,  elevated  a couple  of  feet  above  the  street 
level,  is  open  to  the  view  and  presents  the  appearance 
of  a human  menagerie.  These  ground  floors  are  liter- 
ally cages,  wherein  hundreds  of  imprisoned  girls  sit 
behind  rows  of  bars  every  night,  some  of  them  stolid 
looking,  others  smiling  or  chaffing  the  passers  by.  No 


WINE,  WOMEN,  AND  SONG 


89 


Oriental  slave  market  could  present  a more  pitiable 
and  loathsome  sight.  These  poor  girls  have  been  sold 
for  a term  of  years  to  the  owners  of  the  palaces  of  vice, 
and  there  is  no  escape  for  them  except  through  suicide 
or  the  very  rare  chance  of  being  ransomed  by  a rich 
admirer,  and  elevated  to  concubinage  or  possibly  even 
to  marriage. 

In  Japanese  novels  the  heroine  is  not  infrequently  a 
girl  who  has  been  sold  by  starving  parents  into  this 
horrible  life,  or  lias  voluntarily  offered  this  sacrifice  of 
her  chastity  to  rescue  them  from  debt.  But  it  is  the 
opinion  of  those  best  informed  that,  except  among  the 
very  poorest  or  in  famine  times,  such  cases  mostly 
belong  to  the  realm  of  romance  and  rarely  occur  in 
real  life  — perhaps  not  more  frequently  than  in  Europe 
or  America.  Foreigners  usually  get  erroneous  ideas 
on  this  subject  by  confounding  the  Yoshiwara  victims 
with  the  geishas  or  tea-house  girls.  These  are  often 
refined  and  beautiful,  but  in  the  Yoshiwara  cages  one 
rarely  sees  a face  that  could  be  called  pretty  ,•  and 
what  little  beauty  there  may  be  is  utterly  marred 
by  the  disgusting  daubs  of  paint  and  powder  with 
which  the  faces  are  rouged  and  whitewashed.  Most 
of  the  girls  are  in  Japanese  garb,  but  some  of  them 
seek  to  attract  attention  by  sitting  on  chairs,  wearing 
ill-fitting  foreign  clothes,  crowned  by  vulgar  Parisian 
hats.  They  are  the  most  offensive  ingredient  in  this 
whole  repulsive  spectacle,  the  one  redeeming  feature 
of  which  is  that  by  thus  collecting  all  of  the  women  in 
a special  region,  the  other  streets  are  kept  undefiled  by 
certain  nocturnal  phenomena  which  are  a disgrace  to 
. the  “ Christian  ” cities  of  Europe  and  America. 

The  Yoshiwara  is  the  only  part  of  Toky5  where  a 


90 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


foreigner  who  behaves  himself  is  liable  to  insult.  Here, 
as  we  rode  and  walked  along,  we  encountered  now  and 
then  the  sneering  looks  and  taunting  words  of  members 
of  the  former  samurai  or  the  criminal  classes.  Every 
reader  of  J apanese  novels  or  police  records  knows  that 
the  Yoshiwara  is  the  haunt  of  the  vicious — of  libertines, 
thieves,  forgers,  murderers- — who  come  here  to  drown 
their  pangs  of  conscience  and  spend  their  dishonest 
gains  in  carousals.  Hence  it  forms  a convenient  trap 
for  detectives,  who  usually  find  their  game  here  without 
the  trouble  of  hunting  it.  Here,  too,  for  the  first  and 
only  time  in  Japan,  I saw  the  spectacle  of  a drunken 


man. 


A THEATRE  AND  A SCHOOL 


ONLY  SEVEN  HOURS  BEHAVIOR  OF  THE  AUDIENCE  

SOCIAL  STATUS  OF  ACTORS TRAILING  TROUSERS THE 

KNEELING  NATION EXPRESSION  OF  EMOTION CHINESE 

FALSETTO SCENERY  AND  MUSIC STAGE  ILLUSIONS 

COUNT  OKUMA’S  SCHOOL SPEECHES  AND  PRIZES LUNCH 

IN  THE  COUNT’S  GARDEN 

During  the  hot  lotos  months  the  theatres  of  Japan, 
as  of  most  countries,  are  closed.  On  July  7 and  8,  how- 
ever, there  happened  to  be,  for  the  benefit  of  sufferers 
from  the  failure  of  the  rice  crops,  a special  charity  per- 
formance by  the  Danjiuro  Association,  at  the  Shintomi 
Theatre,  to  which  foreigners  were  able  to  purchase 
tickets  at  two  dollars  each,  and  which  was  on  no 
account  to  be  missed,  for  Danjiuro  is  the  greatest  of 
Japanese  actors.  It  was  expected  that  a great  many 
foreigners  would  be  present,  and  for  their  benefit  the 
principal  play  to  be  given  had  been  abbreviated  so  that 
it  would  last  only  seven  hours.  For  the  same  reason 
the  performance  was  begun  at  three  P.M.  instead  of 
at  six  o’clock  in  the  morning,  which  is  the  orthodox 
Japanese  hour  for  beginning  a play  that  usually  lasts 
till  six  in  the  evening,  — sometimes  like  our  newspaper 
serials,  “ to  be  continued  ” next  day. 

It  was  raining  when  we  rode  up  to  the  theatre,  which 
we  found  to  be  somewhat  larger  than  ordinary  J apanese 

91 


92 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


buildings,  but  without  any  pretensions  to  architectural 
beauty,  which  would  be  too  expensive  a luxury  in  a city 
where  destructive  fires  are  as  frequent  as  in  Tokyo. 
Being  already  provided  with  tickets,  we  were  able  to 
dodge  the  custom  indulged  in  by  well-to-do  Japanese, 
of  securing  their  seats  in  an  adjoining  tea  house,  instead 
of  at  the  box  office.  These  tea  houses  also  provide 
lunches  during  the  intermissions  of  the  play,  and  in 
various  ways  absorb  a large  share  of  the  general  theatri- 
cal profits,  to  which  fact  the  frequent  collapse  of  man- 
agers has  been  attributed. 

Kurumas  by  the  score  discharged  their  foreign  or 
native  occupants  at  the  door,  Avhile  hundreds  of  other 
natives  came  along  on  clogs,  that  lifted  them  stilt-like 
above  the  mud  of  the  unpaved  streets.  Before  entering 
they  left  these  clogs  near  the  door,  where  a pile  of  at 
least  a hundred  pairs  had  accumulated,  which  servants 
were  rapidly  carrying  to  a corner  within.  Leaving  our 
umbrellas  — but  not  our  shoes  — in  charge  of  an  attend- 
ant, we  were  ushered  up  a flight  of  stairs  to  a gallery 
facing  the  stage,  and  provided  with  chairs  — luckily, 
for  it  would  have  been  torture  to  sit  or  squat  for  hours 
on  the  mats,  as  the  natives  did  in  the  side  galleries  and 
in  the  parquet.  This  parquet  was  divided  into  small 
square  boxes,  somewhat  as  we  divide  the  floor  of  a 
church  into  pews ; there  were,  of  course,  no  benches  or 
chairs,  but  everybody  knelt  on  mats  during  the  whole 
performance. 

On  a first  visit  to  a Japanese  theatre  the  audience  is 
quite  as  interesting  as  the  play,  for  the  reason  that  the 
family  groups  in  the  parquet  behave  very  much  as  they 
would  if  they  were  between  the  paper  walls  and  screens 
of  their  own  homes.  No  one  is  so  rude  as  to  disturb 


A THEATRE  AND  A SCHOOL 


93 


others  by  coming  or  going  during  the  continuance  of 
an  act ; but  between  the  acts  the  scenes  in  the  parquet 
constitute  an  entertaining  side-show.  Every  family 
group  is  provided  with  a lunch,  which  has  either  been 
brought  along,  or  is  ordered  from  an  adjoining  tea 
house.  Two  gangways,  right  and  left,  called  hana- 
michi  or  flower  paths,  on  a level  with  the  stage,  run 
from  it  to  the  other  end  of  the  hall,  and  from  these 
gangways  (which  are  also  used  sometimes  for  special 
entrances  of  the  actors  or  for  processions)  male  attend- 
ants distributed  tea,  cakes,  and  other  refreshments  to 
the  audience.  A number  of  the  spectators  took  their 
lunch  unceremoniously  on  the  stage,  in  front  of  the  cur- 
tain. Almost  every  man  and  woman  was  smoking  a 
thimble-sized  pipe,  and  this  indulgence  was  not  limited 
to  the  intermissions,  but  continued  most  of  the  time, 
except  when  the  tears  over  a tragic  situation  threatened 
to  put  out  the  pipe. 

Although  many  Japanese  plays  are  very  immoral, 
according  to  our  notions  of  propriety,  boys  and  girls 
of  all  ages  are  taken  to  them  by  their  parents  of  the 
lower  classes;  but  in  justice  to  the  Japanese,  it  must 
be  added  that  until  recently,  on  account  of  the  coarse- 
ness of  the  ^tage,  the  upper  classes  did  not  frequent 
the  ordinary  theatre,  but  only  certain  ancient  and  highly 
respectable,  unintelligible,  and  tiresome  performances 
— g^cm'-operatic  — known  as  No.  The  actors  of  these 
were  honored  in  society;  but  ordinary  actors  were  held 
in  such  contempt  that,  as  Professor  Chamberlain  tells 
us,  “when  a census  was  taken,  they  were  spoken  of 
with  the  numerals  used  in  counting  animals.  . . . 
Those  to  whom  Japanese  is  familiar  will,”  he  adds, 
“appreciate  the  terrible  sting  of  the  insult.”  The 


94 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


strictness  of  Japanese  etiquette  on  this  point  is  illus- 
trated by  the  account  given,  only  a few  decades  ago, 
by  Sir  Rutherford  Alcock  of  a visit  to  a theatre,  which 
he  made  in  Osaka,  prefaced  by  this  information : “ In 
Yeddo  I had  never  been  able'  to  gratify  my  desire  to 
see  this  illustration  of  national  manners,  because  no 
person  of  rank  can  be  seen  in  such  places ; and  it 
would  have  been  a breach  of  all  rules  of  propriety  for 
a minister  to  visit  a theatre.”  Within  recent  years 
there  has  been  a change  and  improvement,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  theatres  and  actors  are  no  longer 
tabooed,  which  is  a fortunate  circumstance,  for  the  rea- 
son that,  to  quote  Chamberlain  once  more,  the  theatre 
is  “the  only  remaining  place  where  the  life  of  Old 
Japan  can  be  studied  in  these  radical  latter  days.” 
Apart  from  us  foreigners  seated  on  chairs  in  one 
gallery  and  our  method  of  applause,  which  the  Japan- 
ese have  adopted  in  their  public  places,  there  was  noth- 
ing in  this  theatre  that  could  not  have  been  seen  in 
Old  Japan.  The  dresses  of  the  spectators  may  have 
been  less  sombre  in  former  days;  but  this  sombreness 
only  served  to  enhance,  by  contrast,  the  beautiful  colors 
and  patterns  of  the  accurate  historic  costumes  worn  by 
the  actors.  I cannot  add  “and  actresses”;  for  even  yet 
women  are  not  considered  to  be  fit  to  appear  in  a first- 
class  play,  and  their  parts  are  still  taken  by  men  — 
admirably  taken  by  them,  it  must  be  confessed,  with  a 
grace  truly  feminine.  Of  the  men’s  costumes  the  odd- 
est were  the  trailing  trousers  — those  most  extraordi- 
nary garments,  which  were  part  of  the  court  costume 
until  a few  decades  ago,  and  which  amazed  Sir  Ruther- 
ford Alcock  when  he  was  received  by  the  Shogun.  He 
relates  that  facing  him  were  fifty  officials, 


A THEATRE  AND  A SCHOOL 


95 


“all  in  gauze  and  silks.  . . . The  most  singular  part  of  the 
whole  costume,  and  that  which,  added  to  the  headgear,  gave  an 
irresistibly  comic  air  to  the  whole  presentment,  was  the  immeasur- 
able prolongation  of  the  silk  trousers.  These,  instead  of  stopping 
short  at  the  heels,  are  unconscionably  lengthened  and  left  to  trail 
two  or  three  feet  behind  them,  so  that  their  feet,  as  they  advanced, 
seemed  pushed  into  what  should  have  been  the  knees  of  the 
garment.” 

These  trailing  trousers  played  a conspicuous  role  in 
the  drama  we  saw  at  the  Shintomi.  It  has  been  sug- 
gested that,  as  such  a garment  must  make  its  wearer 
clumsy  and  helpless,  it  was  prescribed  by  the  rulers  to 
ward  off  the  danger  of  assassination.  But  when  I asked 
Mr.  Shugio  what  he  thought  was  the  original  object  of 
this  strange  costume,  he  replied  that  it  was  to  give  the 
impression  that  the  Shogun’s  subjects  were  on  their 
knees  even  when  walking.  The  Japanese  are  indeed 
always  on  their  knees,  both  for  courtesy  and  comfort* 
except  when  walking  or  sleeping,  and  it  would  not  be 
inappropriate  to  entitle  a book  on  them.  The  Kneeling 
Nation.  If  one  of  them  wrote  a book  on  us,  he  would 
probably  be  tempted  to  entitle  it,  The  Sitting  Nation ; 
for  kneeling  and  walking  are  fast  becoming  lost  arts 
among  us. 

Our  performance  consisted  of  a tragedy  in  four  acts, 
a short  comedy,  and  a dance  in  four  acts,  in  which  last 
the  Misses  Fukiko  and  Jitsuko,  daughters  of  Danjiuro, 
took  part  — models  of  elegance  in  appearance  and  grace 
in  gesture.  An  English  program  was  distributed, 
containing  the  “ dramatic  (sic')  personae  ” and  a brief 
sketch  of  the  tragic  plot,  the  scene  of  which  was  placed 
at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  which 
had  a good  deal  to  do  with  fighting  and  plotting  and  poi- 
soned cakes.  I have  never  seen  better  acting  than  that 


96 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


in  the  poisoning  scene  of  this  play.  However  much  the 
Japanese  may  differ  from  us  in  customs  and  etiquette, 
in  the  expression  of  grief  and  joy  their  faces  are  like 
ours,  and  their  actors  have  such  wonderful  mimetic 
powers  that  I found  no  difficulty  whatever  in  following 
the  plot,  both  in  the  tragedy  and  the  comedy.  Danjiuro 
might  come  to  America  and  act  in  his  oavii  language,  as 
Salvini  has  done ; he  is  the  Salvini  of  Japan,  and  would 
be  a popular  idol  anywhere.  One  of  our  party  had 
intended  to  return  to  Yokohama  at  six,  but  I heard 
him  say  that  he  liked  the  play  (of  which  he  could  not 
understand  a word)  so  well  that  lie  had  decided  to  stay 
to  the  end  — four  hours  more,  including  an  hour’s  inter- 
mission for  supper. 

The  only  disagreeable  feature  of  the  performance  was 
the  tone  in  which  the  actors  spoke  their  parts.  In 
ordinary  conversation  the  Japanese  speak  in  a low, 
musical  voice  and  with  natural  inflections,  but  on  the 
stage  they  have  adopted  the  idiotic  Chinese  sing-song, 
squeaking  falsetto,  unearthly  yells,  and  other  extraor- 
dinary sounds  which  make  a Chinese  theatre  seem 
like  an  improvised  lunatic  asylum.  Almost  everything 
that  is  really  absurd  in  Japan  comes  from  China,  and 
prominent  among  the  absurdities  which  ought  to  yield 
as  soon  as  possible  to  Occidental  influences  is  the  stage 
falsetto.  I was  surprised  by  another  peculiarity  of  the 
theatrical  diction.  My  grammars  had  told  me  that 
the  Japanese  have  practically  no  verbal  or  oratorical 
accent,  every  syllable  and  word  having  about  the  same 
emphasis.  But  it  seemed  to  me  that  these  actors 
positively  swooped  down  on  certain  syllables  and 
words,  with  an  emphatic  sforzando.  I had  also  noticed 
previously  that  railway  guards  often  accented  one 


A THEATRE  AND  A SCHOOL 


97 


syllable  much  more  strongly  than  the  others ; for 
instance,  Kamakura. 

In  its  scenic  features  the  Japanese  stage  has  gone  far 
beyond  the  Chinese,  which  is  still  in  the  primitive  con- 
dition of  Sliakspere’s  time  when  a board  with  “ This  is 
a Forest,”  or  whatever  else  was  to  be  suggested,  took 
the  place  of  real  or  painted  trees,  mountains,  and  so  on. 
It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if,  with  their  passionate 
love  of  nature,  which  makes  them  paint  a maple  branch 
or  a Fuji  on  every  fan,  screen,  and  teapot,  the  Japanese 
had  been  willing  to  dispense  with  a scenic  background 
on  the  stage.  Episodes  of  street  life,  domestic  interiors, 
dogs,  horses,  boats,  moats,  and  castles,  forest  scenes  — 
are  all  painted,  or  bodily  introduced,  with  an  art  that 
is  thoroughly  realistic,  and  illusory  in  its  perspective. 
What  is  more,  to  save  time,  or  rather,  to  shorten  inter- 
missions, the  Japanese  were  the  first  to  invent  a revolv- 
ing stage,  which  makes  it  possible  to  set  up  one  scene 
while  another  is  in  use,  thus  facilitating  rapid  changes. 
The  curtain  is  sometimes  raised,  as  in  our  theatres, 
sometimes  dropped  out  of  sight,  or  again  pushed  aside 
and  closed,  as  at  Bayreuth.  The  Shintomi  has  two 
ornamental  curtains,  — one  Dutch,  the  other  the  gift 
of  a Hawaiian  monarch. 

But  again,  just  as  the  splendid  acting  is  marred  by 
the  silly  Chinese  intonation,  so  the  scenic  illusion  is 
destroyed  by  incongruities.  One  might  forgive  the 
gangways  running  from  the  stage  across  the  parquet, 
and  the  occasional  appearance  of  actors  on  them,  espe- 
cially when  they  are  arrayed  in  their  most  gorgeous 
costumes,  genuine  works  of  art  which  have  few  counter- 
parts at  the  present  day,  and  which  can  be  better  seen, 
this  way  than  on  the  stage  itself ; but  one  fails  to 


H 


98 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


understand  how  the  Japanese  can  tolerate  the  Chinese 
nuisance  of  allowing  stage  attendants  to  walk  about 
among  the  actors,  light  up  their  faces  with  candles, 
prompt  them  from  an  open  book,  bring  on  or  remove 
furniture,  etc.,  in  an  obtrusive  manner  which  destroys 
all  illusion.  What  is  amusing  about  this  farce  is  the 
Oriental  naivete  of  supposing  these  attendants  to  be 
invisible,  as  is  indicated  by  their  wearing  black  gar- 
ments and  veils.  An  explanation  of  this  absurdity 
may  perhaps  be  found  in  the  fact  that  until  recently 
the  Japanese  theatre  was  frequented  only  by  the  lower 
classes,  whose  illusion  is  not  easily  marred. 

Shall  I attempt  to'  describe  the  music  which  accom- 
panied the  tragedy?  It  must  be  admitted  that  the 
Japanese,  as  well  as  the  Chinese,  anticipated  Wag- 
ner in  the  idea  that  a tragedy  needs  a musical  accom- 
paniment. It  is  their  way  of  carrying  out  this  idea 
that  Western  ears  object  to.  I frankly  confess  that  I 
found  a certain  charm  in  the  barbarous  music  of  the 
Chinese  theatre  in  San  Francisco  after  I had  heard  it 
four  or  five  times.  If  this  Japanese  dramatic  music 
gave  me  less  pleasure,  it  may  he  owing  to  the  fact  that 
it  was  too  deep  to  be  understood  at  first  hearing.  I 
will  give  it  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  — the  more  will- 
ingly as  1 did  subsequently  hear  samisen  and  koto 
playing  which  was  truly  musical  in  its  way.  What 
was  surprising  in  the  play  at  the  Sliintomi  Thea- 
tre was  the  variety  of  musical  effects  and  groupings. 
To  the  left  of  the  stage  was  a sort  of  menagerie  cage 
with  bars,  the  occupants  of  which  kept  up  a monoto- 
nous strumming  on  their  samisens  in  accompanying  the 
dialogue.  In  a row  on  the  back  of  the  stage  there 
were  some  flute  players  and  more  samisenists,  whose 


A THEATRE  AND  A SCHOOL 


99 


performance  sometimes  assumed  a well-defined  rhyth- 
mic form.  In  a sort  of  proscenium  box  on  our  right, 
ten  feet  above  the  stage,  there  were  two  more  samisen 
players,  besides  two  doleful  vocalists,  looking,  with 
their  shaven  crowns,  like  Buddhist  priests.  Their  song 
consisted  of  an  occasional  melodic  bud,  with  a great 
deal  of  garnishing  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  indi- 
cate in  our  musical  notation.  But  the  prima  donna  of 
the  occasion  was  the  fellow  with  the  big  drum.  He 
had  his  innings  when  a ghost  came  on  the  stage,  and 
again,  when  the  ghost  made  his  exit.  That  drummer 
could  give  points  to  a thunderstorm  in  the  Alps.  It 
is  said  that  the  Japanese  do  not  stand  in  real  awe  of 
ghosts,  but  look  upon  their  possible  appearance  with  a 
certain  kindly  interest ; yet  I fancy  that  when  accom- 
panied by  such  an  unearthly  drum  solo,  a ghost  must 
be  awful  even  to  them. 

If  I have  neglected  to  mention  the  name  of  the  play 
or  its  writer,  that  is  not  my  fault.  No  name  or  author 
was  given  on  the  playbill,  it  being  the  custom  to  ascribe 
new  dramas  to  the  manager  who  produces  them. 
Many  of  the  plays  are  the  result  of  the  co-operation  of 
a writer  with  the  actors,  scene  painters,  and  carpenters, 
and  there  is  much  improvisation  during  the  perform- 
ance. Such  a thing,  after  all,  is  not  unknown  in  our 
own  theatres.  I have  been  told  that  of  the  original 
“ Black  Crook  ” nothing  whatever  remains  but  the 
name  ; yet  the  author  still  draws  his  royalty. 

One  great  advantage  of  travelling  in  a country  so 
much  like  another  planet  as  Japan  is  lies  in  this,  that 
it  is  really  not  necessary  to  go  to  a theatre  in  order  to 
enjoy  novel  and  entertaining  sights.  Here  everything 
is  novel,  the  audience  as  well  as  the  play,  and  to  us  the 


100 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


oldest  is  the  newest.  At  the  same  time  what  is  new 
to  them  cannot  but  interest  us  too,  as  showing  what 
success  has  attended  their  efforts  to  graft  foreign  ideas 
on  Japanese  stock.  Bearing  this  in  mind,  I welcomed 
an  invitation,  secured  for  me  by  my  ever-obliging 
friend,  Mr.  Shugio,  to  attend  the  seventh  graduating 
exercises  of  the  school  of  political  science  and  law,  the 
Tokyd  Semmon  Gakko,  organized  and  supported  by 
Count  Okuma.  This  school  had  800  students,  182  of 
whom  were  to  receive  their  degrees  on  this  occasion. 
The  exercises  were  held  in  a large,  airy  building,  pro- 
vided, like  all  Japanese  schools  to-day,  with  desks, 
benches,  and  chairs,  the  old  kneeling  attitude  being 
apparently  considered  incompatible  with  the  modern 
educational  spirit.  Chairs  had  been  placed  on  one  side 
for  the  invited  guests,  while  the  rest  of  the  hall  was 
densely  packed  with  students,  no  two  of  whom  were 
dressed  alike.  The  majority  were  in  Japanese  attire  ; 
others  had  foreign  trousers  or  a shirt,  oddly  combined 
with  native  garments,  while  a few  were  completely 
attired  in  foreign  dress.  The  President  wore  the 
national  costume.  The  order  of  exercises,  as  kindly 
translated  for  me  by  Mr.  Shugio,  was  as  follows : — 

Enter  the  students  with  their  relatives  and  guardians. 

Enter  the  guests  and  the  faculty. 

Music. 

The  President  distributes  the  certificates. 

The  President  distributes  the  prizes. 

Music. 

Speech  by  the  President. 

Mr.  Teuda  resjDonds  for  the  graduates. 

Music. 

Speeches  by  guests. 

Music. 


A THEATRE  AND  A SCHOOL 


101 


The  prizes  consisted  of  books  given  to  about  twenty 
of  the  best  students.  The  speeches  were  apparently 
most  eloquent,  being  often  interrupted  by  laughter  and 
applause.  Before  the  exercises  we  had  been  taken  to 
an  anteroom,  where  we  found  fans,  cigarettes,  and  ice 
water  on  tap,  free  for  everybody.  After  the  exercises 
we  all  adjourned  to  the  garden  of  Count  Okuma,  where 
the  band  played  foreign  music  with  real  swing  and 
expression.  Having  partaken  of  an  open-air  lunch  of 
cold  meats,  ice  cream  and  cake,  beer  and  claret  lemon- 
ade, we  inspected  the  beauties  of  the  garden,  which  is 
widely  famed  for  its  conservatories  and  rare  flowers 
and  shrubs.  We  then  visited  the  house,  which  is  of 
Japanese  construction,  except  that  there  is  glass  in- 
stead of  paper  in  the  sliding  screens  serving  as  walls. 
Within,  some  of  the  rooms  are  furnished  in  Japanese 
style,  while  others  have  foreign  chairs,  tables,  and  car- 
pets, so  that  one  can  enter  with  boots  on.  But  the 
artistic  decorations  even  in  these  rooms  are  Japanese, 
showing  how  a Japanese  gentleman  of  taste  can  blend 
Occidental  features  with  Oriental  art  as  successfully  as 
we  do  the  reverse.  It  was  on  the  verandah  of  the  Jap- 
anese entrance  to  the  house  that  I had  the  pleasure  of 
a personal  introduction  to  the  Count,  who,  as  the  reader 
knows,  has  long  been  one  of  the  most  prominent  of 
Japanese  statesmen,  noted  for  his  foreign  sympathies, 
which  had  not  long  before  this  led  to  an  attempted  assas- 
sination by  a patriotic  fanatic.  The  Count  was  still 
suffering  from  the  effects  of  his  wounds,  but  was  in 
a most  affable  mood.  I realized  that  he  was  up  even 
in  foreign  slang  when,  on  pouring  brandy  into  my 
tumbler,  he  looked  at  me  and  exclaimed,  “ Say  when ! ” 


102 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


We  had  a chat  on  international  topics,  one  of  his 
remarks  being  that  the  Japanese  were  like  the 
Americans,  inasmuch  as  they  borrowed  what  was 
best  from  all  other  countries  — ua  privilege  of  young 
nations.” 


THE  MIKADO  AND  THE  EXHIBITION 


A VAST  CURIO  STORE VISITORS SEMI-FOREIGN  PICTURE 

GALLERY  A GASTRONOMIC  INSULT  AN  IMPERIAL 

PRISONER THE  MIKADO’S  FIRST  OUTING INVISIBLE 

NO  LONGER EDITORIAL  PUNISHMENT A REMARKABLE 

MONARCH PERSONAL  APPEARANCE EVENING  DRESS  IN 

THE  MORNING JAPANESE  JOURNALISTS EMPEROR  OR 

MIKADO? A FOREIGN  DINNER 

Shortly  before  leaving  New  York,  I had  a con- 
versation with  Mr.  John  La  Farge,  who  remarked  that 
he  felt  very  much  tempted  to  revisit  J apan  that  summer, 
were  it  only  to  attend  the  third  National  Exhibition, 
which  would  bring  under  one  roof  many  choice  works 
of  art  ordinarily  scattered  all  over  the  country,  and 
belonging  to  wealthy  ex-daimyos,  to  whom  one  must 
get  letters  of  introduction,  and  then  submit  to  various 
time-robbing  ceremonies.  There  certainly  was  a great 
advantage  in  having  so  many  art  treasures  collected  in 
one  building ; and  one  reason  why  Tokyo  proved  so 
fascinating  to  me,  in  the  sweltering  lotos  months,  was 
that  I could  spend  a few  hours  every  day  in  the 
Exposition  grounds. 

Three  national  expositions  have  so  far  been  held  in 
Toky5,  the  government  taking  an  increasing  interest 
in  them,  as  is  shown  by  the  appropriation  of  $100,000 
for  the  first,  $180,000  for  the  second,  and  $500,000  for 

103 


104 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


the  third.  The  buildings  erected  for  this  last  one  cov- 
ered about  eight  acres  of  Ueno  Park.  The  manager 
had  visited  several  European  expositions,  and  modelled 
his  buildings  and  interior  arrangement  in  accordance 
with  his  foreign  experiences,  so  that  at  first  sight  the 
general  impression  was  European  rather  than  Japanese. 
But  on  closer  inspection,  it  became  apparent  that,  with 
the  exception  of  some  models  of  electric  cars,  suites 
of  rooms  furnished  with  chairs,  tables,  and  sofas,  and 
a few  other  things,  unknown  to  Old  Japan,  everything 
on  the  stands  and  in  the  showcases  had  a purely 
Japanese  coloring  and  origin.  The  whole  exhibition 
building  seemed  like  a vast  curio  store,  containing  not 
only  art  works,  but  illustrations  of  all  branches  of 
industry ; and  in  passing  along  these  miles  of  exhibits, 
the  thought  that  most  frequently  recurred  was  that 
in  modern  Japan,  as  in  ancient  Greece,  art  is  largely 
industrial ; that  is,  works  of  art  are  not  created  as 
things  apart  from  daily  life,  to  be  preserved  in  galleries 
and  museums,  but  form  an  integral  part  of  the  vases, 
fans,  tea  sets,  and  screens,  that  adorn  the  homes  and 
throw  an  esthetic  glamour  over  domestic  life.  Here 
was  room  after  room  of  the  finest  lacquer  goods,  Japan’s 
specialty ; vases  of  all  sizes,  of  the  most  exquisite 
texture  and  realistic  or  fanciful  ornamentation;  tiny 
teacups,  so  beautiful  and  delicate  that  the  most  in- 
fatuated lover  would  deem  them  fit  to  touch  his  sweet- 
heart’s lips ; screens,  fans,  and  pots,  on  which  scenes 
of  Japanese  life,  or  landscapes,  trees,  and  flowers  were 
illustrated  with  an  art  which  foreign  artists  cannot 
approach  — and  most  of  these  at  prices  that  would 
have  made  connoisseurs  and  bargain  hunters  elsewhere 
wild  with  delight. 


THE  MIKADO  AND  THE  EXHIBITION 


105 


There  were  about  a million  visitors  in  all  — a daily 
average  of  over  8000,  including  foreigners  holding 
special  invitations,  and  other  deadheads  \ but  as  the 
season  tickets  were  only  $2,  and  a single  admission 
only  seven  cents  (fifteen  on  Sundays),  the  income  did 
not  meet  the  expenditures.  The  higher  admission  price 
asked  on  Sunday  was  to  give  the  fastidious  classes  a 
better  chance  to  see  the  exhibits  at  leisure,  without 
mixing  with  the  crowds,  for  whom  Saturday  was  the 
principal  day.  I may  add  here,  in  parenthesis,  that  the 
Christian  Sunday  is  not  recognized  in  Japan,  where 
work  goes  on,  and  stores  are  open  as  on  other  days, 
except  in  treaty  ports  like  Yokohama,  where  the  custom 
house  and  the  foreign  shops  are  closed. 

The  one  disappointing  feature  of  the  Exhibition  was 
the  semi-foreign  picture  gallery.  Both  the  old  and  the 
new  schools  were  represented,  but  the  screen-shaped 
pictures  still  predominated  over  the  modern  square 
canvases.  Birds  and  flowers  have  always  been  the 
most  successful  province  of  Japanese  artists,  but  there 
were  also  a few  good  landscapes  and  scenes  from  domes- 
tic life.  The  oil  paintings,  with  few  exceptions,  did 
not  indicate  that  the  genius  of  Japanese  artists  finds 
ready  expression  in  oil  and  canvas  and  foreign  methods. 
Comparing  the  whole  collection  of  pictures  with  a sim- 
ilar one  in  America  or  Europe,  the  most  striking  differ- 
ence, as  regards  subjects,  lay  in  the  entire  absence  of 
the  nude.  Female  beauty  unadorned  is  the  favorite 
subject  of  Occidental  art,  but  in  this  gallery  there  was 
not  a single  undraped  female  (or  male)  form,  and  in  the 
Japanese  wood  and  ivory  carvings  and  bronzes  shown 
in  other  rooms,  the  figures  were  also  fully  clothed.  The 
cause  of  this  will  be  discussed  in  a later  chapter. 


106 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


One  afternoon  I had  cause  to  blush  for  my  country. 
Sitting  down  at  a refreshment  booth,  I asked  for  a cup 
of  cha,  expecting,  of  course,  to  receive  a tiny  sample  of 
Japanese  tea  in  a dainty  cup.  Instead  of  that,  the 
sophisticated  attendant  brought  me  one  of  those  heavy, 
thick  cups,  without  a handle,  which  are  used  in  our 
Wild  West  hotels  to  prevent  breakage  ; and,  horror  of 
horrors,  he  had  put  in  milk,  taking  it  for  granted  that 
I,  being  a foreigner,  would  prefer  tea  in  that  form.  If 
I could  have  talked  Japanese,  I should  have  told  him 
that  I would  as  soon  put  lager  beer  in  my  tea  as  milk 
or  cream.  I fancy  that  our  unspeakable  gastronomic 
solecism  arose  from  the  prevailing  Occidental  ignorance 
how  to  make  tea  properly.  If  tea  is  boiled,  or  allowed 
to  stand  too  long  (as  it  almost  always  is  in  America 
and  Europe),  it  becomes  so  bitter  that  not  only  sugar 
but  cream  are  welcomed  to  modify  its  astringency  ; 
but  when  tea  is  properly  made,  it  has  a bouquet  like 
that  of  a choice  old  wine,  which  it  is  simply  a crime  to 
spoil  with  cream.  Would  you  put  cream  in  a gla$s  of 
Tokay? 

One  of  the  great  events  during  Exhibition  time  was 
the  chance  it  gave  me  to  see  the  Mikado.  When  the 
newspapers  announced  one  morning  that  the  Emperor 
would  preside  over  the  distribution  of  prizes  at  the 
Exposition,  no  one  was  in  the  least  surprised.  Yet 
twenty-five  years  previous  to  this  the  appearance  of 
such  an  item  in  the  newspapers  — if  there  had  been 
any  at  that  time  — would  have  created  more  incredu- 
lous surprise  than  would  the  announcement  in  a Berlin 
paper  of  to-day  that  Emperor  William  had  consented 
hereafter  to  sweep  the  street  in  front  of  his  palace. 
European  monarchs  sometimes  travel  incognito  for  a 


THE  MIKADO  AND  THE  EXHIBITION 


101 


few  days;  but  in  Japan,  for  many  centuries,  the  mon- 
archs  remained  always  unknown  and  invisible,  and 
Mutsuhito  is  the  first  Mikado  in  hundreds  of  years 
who  has  shown  his  face  to  his  subjects.  Every  one 
interested  in  Japan  knows  that  for  more  than  seven 
hundred  years  the  Mikados,  though  the  nominal  rulers 
of  the  country,  were  in  reality  little  more  than  puppets 
in  the  hands  of  the  generals,  or  Shoguns,  the  real  rulers 
of  the  land.  Many  of  the  Mikados  were  mere  boys 
when  they  were  made  to  abdicate,  to  be  succeeded  by 
other  boys,  whom  the  Shoguns  found  it  easy  to  keep 
in  subjection.  Others  abdicated  voluntarily,  and  re- 
tired to  a monastery,  preferring  the  religious  medita- 
tions on  nirvana  to  the  actual  “ imperial  nirvana  ” of 
their  palace  prisons. 

For  prisoners  they  practically  were.  They  lived  at 
Kyoto,  then  called  Miaco  (“  the  metropolis  ”),  and  were 
supposed  by  the  people  to  be  too  holy  to  trouble  them- 
selves with  worldly  matters,  the  popular  belief  about 
the  Mikado  being  that  “lie  lived  in  a state  of  sublime 
abstraction,  occupying  himself  from  morning  to  night, 
at  all  times  and  seasons,  in  prayer  to  the  gods,  his 
ancestors,  for  the  welfare  of  Japan.”  He  never  left 
the  palace  grounds  except  in  a closed  palanquin,  or  a 
covered  cart  drawn  by  bullocks.1  Some  of  the  Mikados 
were  refined  patrons  of  art  and  literature,  others  were 
effeminate  voluptuaries,  but  all  were  powerless  to  affect 
the  destinies  of  their  country ; nor  were  they  partic- 
ularly wealthy,  depending  for  their  income  on  what  the 
Shogun  deemed  fit  to  allow  them,  the  real  imperial 
pomp  and  display  of  wealth  and  ceremony  being  at  the 

1 One  of  these  clumsy  imperial  bullock  carts,  with  enormous  wheels 
six  feet  in  diameter,  is  still  on  exhibition  at  the  Ueno  Museum. 


108 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Shogun's  court  in  Tokyo.  As  late  as  the  year  1868, 
the  Japanese  statesman,  Okubo  Icliizo,  drew  up  a memo- 
rial to  the  Government,  in  which  he  thus  graphically 
described  the  Mikado’s  peculiar  position  : — 

“ The  residence  of  the  sovereign  is  called  ‘ above  the  clouds,’  his 
nobles  are  styled  ‘ men  of  the  region  above  the  clouds,’  his  face  is 
compared  to  a ‘dragon’s  countenance,’  as  something  not  easily  to 
be  seen,  and  his  ‘ gem-like  person  ’ is  spoken  of  by  excess  of  respect 
as  something  which  must  not  touch  the  earth ; so  that  lie  begins  to 
think  himself  a more  honorable  and  illustrious  being  than  he  is 
until  high  and  low  being  alienated  from  him,  his  condition  comes 
to  be  as  miserable  as  it  is  now.” 1 

These  were  bold  words  to  speak  of  a monarch  who 
was  considered  as  sacred  as  a mediaeval  Pope,  and 
whose  descent  was  traced  back  directly'  to  the  gods 
through  Jimmu  Tenno,  the  first  of  the  “ historic” 
Mikados,  who  is  supposed  to  have  flourished  in  the 
seventh  century  before  Christ  ; bold  words  to  sj)eak  in 
a country  where,  as  late  as  1890,  two  editors  of  the  Nohi 
Nippo  were  sentenced  to  four  years  in  prison  with  hard 
labor,  a fine  of  $100  each,  and  police  supervision  for  a 
year  and  a half  after  liberation,  for  having  spoken  dis- 
respectfully of  this  Jimmu  Tenno,  who  died  in  585  B.c.2 

It  seems  surprising  that  the  present  Emperor  should 
not  have  pardoned  these  editors,  since  he  himself  set 
the  example  in  demolishing  the  mythical  and  sacred 

1 To  this  day  it  is  said  that  there  are,  in  remote  country  villages,  old 
men  and  women  who  believe  that  to  see  the  face  of  the  Mikado  would 
be  a fatal  honor.  Among  the  legends  current  about  him  were  such  as 
these,  that  all  the  rice  he  ate  was  picked  over  by  hand  to  prevent  any 
imperfect  kernels  from  getting  into  the  imperial  stomach,  and  that  all 
his  dishes  were  dashed  to  pieces  to  prevent  others  from  using  them. 

2 The  case  was  appealed,  but  the  higher  court  confirmed  the  sen- 
tence, on  June  21,  1890. 


THE  MIKADO  AND  THE  EXHIBITION 


109 


nimbus  about  the  Mikado’s  head.  He  ascended  the 
throne  in  1867,  aged  only  fifteen,  the  Shogun  having 
been  forced  by  his  enemies  to  abdicate.  Thus  the 
Mikado  was  restored  to  his  true  position,  as  not  only 
nominal  but  actual  ruler  of  Japan.  But  the  conserva- 
tives, who  had  hoped  that  with  this  change  Old  Japan 
would  be  restored  and  the  foreigners  (whom  the  Shoguns 
had  protected)  expelled^  were  doomed  to  grievous  dis- 
appointment. For,  whereas  the  former  Mikado  had 
opposed  the  efforts  of  foreigners  to  establish  them- 
selves in  the  country,  Mutsuhito  and  his  advisers 
changed  about  and  became  the  foreigners’  friends,  hav- 
ing come  to  the  conclusion  that  in  the  Europeanization 
of  Japan,  as  far  as  government  affairs  are  concerned, 
lay  the  only  hope  of  escaping  the  fate  of  India  and  other 
Oriental  nations  now  subject  to  European  powers ; a con- 
clusion, the  wisdom  of  which  has  been  proved  by  the 
successful  war  made  by  Japan  on  China  with  modern 
methods. 

The  Mikado  now  gradually  became  like  any  European 
emperor,  human,  visible,  and  accessible.  Black  vividly 
describes  the  transition  stage  when,  on  April  15,  1868, 
he  went  to  Osaka  : — 

“ Up  to  this  period  he  had  probably  never  seen  a green  field. 
Born  in  the  palace,  he  was  kept  strictly  within  its  domain,  and 
there  he  had  remained,  only  being  removed  to  another  equally 
secluded  residence,  a short  distance  from  it,  when  it  was  destroyed 
by  fire,  and  until  it  was  rebuilt.  Outside  of  Kyoto  he  had  never 
been ; and  to  a lad  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  some  spirit  and  intel- 
ligence (which  he  has  shown  himself  to  possess),  it  must  have  been 
a great  pleasure  to  see  something  of  the  beauties  of  nature  and  the 
active  life  of  men  in  town  and  country.  Even  now  he  was  not 
allowed  to  gaze  upon  them  freely,  nor  was  the  eye  of  any  loyal  or 
curious  subject  permitted  to  fall  upon  him.  In  a norimon  of  ex- 


110  LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 

quisite  finish  — made  of  the  purest  Kiri  ( Paullownia  Imperialist 
without  an  atom  of  either  paint  or  varnish  — he  sat.  Fine  bamboo 
blinds  divided  him  from  the  world,  allowing  him  to  see  without 
being  seen  . . . 

“ He  had  never  been  seen  except  by  a few  of  his  more  immediate 
family  and  attendants,  and  even  by  his  courtiers  his  face  was  never 
seen  ; a screen  falling  between  him  and  them  concealing  the  upper 
portion  of  his  body.” 1 

All  this  Orientalism  and  medievalism  was  rapidly 
done  away  with  by  the  bright  young  monarch  as  soon 
as  he  felt  himself  his  own  master.  Three  years  after 
the  first  outing  just  described,  he  adopted  European 
clothes  for  himself  and  his  courtiers,  and  has  never  worn 
the  Japanese  costume  in  public  since.  He  issued  a 
severe  edict  against  patriotic  fanatics,  which  at  once 
put  an  end  to  attacks  on  foreigners.  He  approved  and 
fostered  the  introduction  of  foreign  methods  of  educa- 
tion, manufacture,  agriculture,  and  trade.  He  abolished 
odious  class  distinctions  and  gave  human  rights  to  the 
previously  degraded  class  of  Eta . He  removed  his 
capital  to  Toky5,  where  he  gave  receptions  not  only  to 
his  own  courtiers  and  nobles,  but  to  representatives  of 
foreign  governments,  gradually  extending  his  hospitality 
to  all  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  had  influential  friends 
to  introduce  them.  But  his  greatest  act  was  his  volun- 
tary resignation,  in  1889,  of  his  absolute  monarchic 
power,  and  the  creation  of  a parliamentary  form  of 
government  with  upper  and  lower  houses,  representing 
all  classes  of  voters. 

Surely  this  remarkable  Mikado  will  be  recorded  in 
history  as  the  most  interesting  monarch  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  No  other  has  had  such  a romantic 


1 Black’s  Young  Japan , IL  195,  196. 


THE  MIKADO  AND  THE  EXHIBITION 


111 


career ; no  other  has  had  the  privilege  of  abolishing 
mediaeval  feudalism  and  Oriental  despotism  with  a 
stroke  of  the  pen,  and  thus  placing  his  country  in  a 
line  with  modern  European  nations.  This  was  the 
monarch  I was  to  see  one  morning  in  July.  My 
guardian  angel,  Mr.  Sliugio,  had  secured  an  invitation 
for  me ; and  in  his  company  1 entered  the  large  pavilion 
which  had  been  erected  in  the  park,  capable  of  holding 
several  thousand  spectators.  The  Mikado’s  throne  was 
at  one  end,  and  a slightly  sloping  platform  covered 
with  white  matting  led  up  to  it.  On  both  sides  of  the 
throne  a few  rows  of  chairs  had  been  placed  for  the 
Japanese  ministers,  the  foreign  ambassadors,  and  mem- 
bers of  the  press.  The  thousands  outside  of  this 
charmed  circle  had  to  stand. 

1 found  my  colleagues  of  the  Japanese  press,  as  on 
several  subsequent  occasions,  extremely  affable  and 
courteous.  There  were  about  a dozen  of  them ; and 
before  the  proceedings  began,  we  all  met  in  an  ante- 
room, Avhere  programs,  paper,  tables,  and  chairs  had 
been  provided  for  our  use.  Several  of  the  journalists 
spoke  English,  and  kindly  offered  to  help  me  in  any 
way  they  could.  Their  courtesy  to  each  other  was 
equally  remarkable.  Imagine  two  American  reporters 
bowing  each  time  they  meet  till  their  heads  are  on  a 
level  with  their  lowest  coat  buttons  ! With  the  excep- 
tion of  the  Oriental  ambassadors,  who  wore  their 
national  costume  (the  Coreans  were  a sight  to  behold), 
and  the  Japanese  officers,  who  wore  dark  blue  uniforms 
with  yellow  stripes,  all  the  spectators  in  our  section, 
including  the  newspaper  men,  were  in  full  evening 
dress  — swallow  tail,  white  tie,  and  high  silk  hat  — 
although  the  performance  began  at  nine  o’clock  in  the 


112 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


morning.  Indeed,  that  morning  I was  arrayed  in  even- 
ing dress  as  early  as  six  o’clock,  writing  a letter  home, 
in  which  I naturally  had  to  explain  that  the  American 
inference,  that  a man  who  is  seen  in  that  attire  at  such 
an  hour  has  not  been  in  bed  at  all,  did  not  apply  to 
antipodal  Japan.  There  is  at  present  a reaction  and  a 
decided  prejudice  against  our  evening  dress,  but  for 
some  years  it  has  been  de  rigueur  in  Tokyo  society  on  all 
ceremonious  occasions  and  at  all  hours.  We  laugh  at 
the  idea  of  appearing  in  full  dress  at  nine  A.M.;  but 
if  we  put  aside  our  traditional  notions,  and  look  at  the 
matter  without  prejudice,  we  must  acknowledge  that 
the  time  of  the  day  has  little  to  do  with  the  question, 
and  that  the  ridiculousness  of  the  swallow-tail  coat  lies 
in  its  own  cut  and  shape.  To  the  under-sized  Japanese 
this  costume  is  particularly  unbecoming.  One  of  their 
own  papers  has  argued  that  the  Japanese  figure  is  too 
dumpy  and  the  legs  too  short  to  appear  to  advantage 
in  this  foreign  dress ; and  I have  seen  the  statement 
somewhere  that  the  marginal  note,  “ W ear  your  dress 
suit,”  is  no  longer  customary  on  invitation  cards.  If 
the  Japanese  fully  realized  how  European  and  American 
artists  detest  the  swallow-tail  coat,  they  would  banish 
it  as  unceremoniously  as  they  did,  not  long  ago,  the 
trailing  trousers  of  the  court  dress.  At  any  rate,  if 
they  will  persist  in  wearing  our  most  absurd  costume, 
they  ought  to  be  more  careful  to  secure  a good  fit,  and 
to  keep  their  silk  hats  brushed  in  the  right  direction. 
Professor  Chamberlain  says  that  “it  seems  scarcely 
credible,  but  it  is  true,  that  the  Japanese  imagine  their 
appearance  to  be  improved  when  they  exchange  their 
own  costume  for  ours ; and  they  are  angry  with  people 
who  tell  them  the  contrary.  In  this,  as  in  many  other 


THE  MIKADO  AND  THE  EXHIBITION 


113 


matters,  their  former  exquisite  taste  has  died  a sudden 
death.” 

As  the  Mikado  was  now  expected  to  make  his  ap- 
pearance at  any  moment,  we  went  into  the  large  hall 
and  took  seats  on  the  chairs  placed  for  us,  to  the  left 
of  the  throne,  and  quite  near  it.  Where  there  was 
such  a mixture  of  national  and  foreign  things,  it  seemed 
less  barbarous  than  it  would  have  seemed  otherwise, 
for  us  to  walk  with  our  boots  over  the  clean  white 
mats  that  floored  the  hall.  The  arrival  of  the  Emperor, 
in  the  fine  carriage  (for  which  he  long  ago  exchanged 
his  palanquin)  was  heralded  by  the  royal  brass  band, 
which  played  the  Japanese  national  hymn  with  German 
harmonies,  on  German  instruments,  and  followed  it 
up  at  intervals  with  European  dance  music,  a curious 
preference  being  shown  for  polkas.  I was  curious  to 
see  how  the  Emperor  would  be  received  by  the  thou- 
sands of  spectators.  Would  they  prostrate  themselves, 
as  they  were  formerly  obliged  to  do,  whenever  his 
Majesty  passed  in  the  street?  Probably  not,  since 
the  people  were  notified,  as  early  as  1868,  that  the 
shitaniro  (bow-down)  would  no  longer  be  enforced. 
Would  he  be  received  with  a foreign  hurrah,  or  hocJi, 
or  Vive  V Empereur  ! or  with  the  old-fashioned  audible 
drawing-in  of  the  breath,  resulting  in  a prolonged 
f-f-f-f  sound?  The  spectators,  apparently,  did  not 
quite  know,  themselves,  what  they  ought  to  do.  As 
the  Mikado  walked  up  to  his  throne,  they  all  bowed 
their  heads,  but  not  as  low  as  in  ordinary  salutations. 
When  he  sat  down,  and  again  after  he  had  made  his 
address,  an  attempt  was  made  to  applaud  him  by 
clapping  hands ; but  this  did  not  meet  with  the  ap- 
proval of  the  majority,  whose  sentiment  seemed  to  be 


114 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


that  solemn  silence  was  the  most  becoming  way  of 
receiving  the  monarch. 

The  Mikado’s  address  was  preceded  by  one  delivered 
by  the  president  of  the  association,  both  being  read  in 
so  low  a tone  as  to  be  almost  inaudible,  even  to  us  who 
were  so  near.  The  exhibitors  who  had  received  the 
principal  prizes  now  came  up  in  couples  to  receive 
their  diplomas.  They  bowed  before  his  Majesty,  re- 
ceived a huge  roll  (containing  certificates  for  their 
whole  section),  whereupon  they  retreated  a dozen  steps 
backward,  lobster  fashion,  before  etiquette  allowed 
them  to  turn  their  back  on  the  Mikado.  The  cere- 
mony lasted  about  an  hour,  after  which  the  Emperor 
drove  off  in  his  carriage  to  the  sounds  of  the  national 
hymn.  While  he  was  sitting  on  his  throne  we  had 
an  excellent  opportunity  to  observe  his  face.  It  was 
solemn,  almost  stern,  but  there  was  something  majestic 
in  his  bearing  which  was  prepossessing  ; nor  could  one 
fail  to  read  in  that  countenance  the  firm  will  and  the 
keen  intelligence  which  have  made  Mutsuhito  the  most 
remarkable  ruler  of  Japan  since  Ieyasu.  He  has  a 
high  forehead,  dark  complexion,  and  rather  thick  lips. 
In  height  he  is  somewhat  above  the  Japanese  average 
— 5 feet  9 inches.  In  former  years,  according  to 
Black,  his  walk  was  not  good,  as  he  turned  in  his  toes 
and  shuffled  along;  but  now  he  walks  in  the  natural  way 
approved  by  us,  and  has  a fine,  manly  gait.  He  wore 
a foreign  uniform. 

Throughout  this  chapter  I have  taken  the  liberty  to 
retain  the  word  “ Mikado,”  although  I know  that  the 
Japanese  themselves  no  longer  consider  it  good  form 
to  use  it,  “ except  in  poetry  and  on  great  occasions.” 
Ordinarily  he  is  referred  to  as  Tenshi,  Tenno,  or  Shujo, 


THE  MIKADO  AND  THE  EXHIBITION 


115 


which  Chamberlain  translates,  “ the  Son  of  Heaven,’' 
“the  Heavenly  Emperor,”  “the  Supreme  Master.” 
In  the  English  press  of  Japan,  and  in  official  documents, 
he  is  usually  referred  to  simply  as  the  Emperor.  But 
there  is  absolutely  no  reason  why  foreigners  should  give 
up  the  use  of  such  a characteristic  word  as  “Mikado.” 
The  Japanese  have  a foolish  custom  of  constantly  chang- 
ing names  of  classes  and  cities.  The  samurai  are  now 
called  shizoku,  Yeddo  is  Tokyo,  and  Miako  became 
Kyoto,  and  later  still  Saikyo,  which  last  change  for- 
eigners have  refused  to  accept.  “ Mikado  ” is  not  only 
a better  sounding  word  than  any  of  its  new  substitutes, 
but,  like  “ Czar,”  it  has  a definite  national  significance 
which  the  word  “ Emperor  ” lacks. 

A few  days  after  the  distribution  of  prizes  I had 
the  honor  to  be  invited  to  a banquet  given  at  the 
Ueno  Hotel  by  Mr.  I lanabusa,  Commissioner-General 
of  the  Exposition.  Although  it  was  a dinner  in  for- 
eign style,  I found  that  I was  the  only  foreigner  in- 
vited, except  Mr.  K.  M.  Scliroff  of  India.  The  dinner 
was  cooked  in  the  best  French  style  and  washed 
down  with  French  wines  ; and  although  several  Japa- 
nese of  high  rank  were  present,  the  national  courtesy 
was  shown  by  always  serving  the  two  foreign  guests 
first.  Most  of  those  present  spoke  English,  and  one 
gentleman  astonished  me  by  his  idiomatic  accuracy 
and  fluency  of  speech.  But  my  principal  reason  for 
mentioning  this  dinner  is  that  it  provided  another 
illustration  of  the  vexed  dress  problem  in  the  present 
transition  stage  of  Japanese  etiquette.  I had  put  on  a 
brand  new  light  flannel  suit,  just  made  by  an  English 
tailor  at  Yokohama — clean,  stylish,  the  very  thing,  it 
seemed  to  me,  for  a midsummer,  early  afternoon  dinner 


116 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


in  a hot  climate.  To  my  consternation,  on  entering 
the  reception  room,  I found  that  every  one  wore  his 
swallow-tail  suit.  Fearing  that  I had  sinned  against 
etiquette,  I apologized  to  the  host,  who  smiled  and  said 
it  made  no  difference  whatever.  However,  I felt  guilt}r 
until  the  door  opened  again,  and  in  came  Mr.  Schroff 
attired  in  an  informal  white  linen  duster.  I am  con- 
vinced that  our  entertainers  secretly  envied  him  his 
cool  coat. 


OFF  FOR  JAPANESE  SIBERIA 


CLIMATE  OF  JAPAN MONKEYS  IN  THE  SNOW SKATING  IN 

TOKYO YEZO  VERSUS  HONDO DAMP  DAYS CLIMATE 

AND  LITERATURE PROFESSORS  AT  HOME A LITERARY 

COMPANION UNUSUAL  PRIVILEGES MULBERRY  PLAN- 
TATIONS  AN  INN  AT  SENDAI TRANSFORMING  A ROOM 

QUILTS  AND  PILLOWS THE  BILL 

If  an  American  were  asked,  “ What  is  the  climate  of 
your  country  in  the  region  between  New  Orleans  and 
Halifax  ? ” he  would  laugh  at  the  absurdity  of  the 
question.  “My  dear  sir,”  he  would  reply,  “New  York 
alone  has  several  climates  every  other  day;  and  as  for 
New  Orleans  and  Halifax,  you  might  as  well  ask  what 
is  the  temperature  between  Peru  and  Alaska.”  Yet 
the  question  is  asked  every  day,  “ What  is  the  climate 
of  Japan  ? ” when  a glance  at  the  map  would  show 
that  (even  if  we  omit  a few  of  the  northernmost  small 
islands)  its  southern  and  northern  extremities  are  as 
far  apart  as  New  Orleans  and  Halifax.  If  we  made 
the  comparison  on  the  Pacific  coast,  the  range  would 
be  from  Northern  Mexico  to  Northern  Oregon.  Thus 
the  Japanese  Empire  is  longer  than  California;  but, 
being  less  broad,  its  area  is  about  12,000  square  miles 
less  than  that  of  the  most  favored  State  in  the  Union. 

Monkeys  in  the  snow  — in  these  four  words  the  cli- 
mate of  Japan  might  be  summed  up.  Monkeys  are 

117 


118 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


found  near  the  northern  extremity  of  the  main  island, 
in  places  where,  according  to  Professor  Chamberlain, 
“ the  snow  often  drifts  to  a depth  of  fifteen  or  twenty 
feet.”  Monkeys  are  always  associated  in  our  minds 
with  a tropical  climate;  and  when  we  think  of  Japan, 
we  always  have  in  mind  silk  and  tea,  camphor,  rice, 
and  other  products  of  tropical  or  sub-tropical  regions. 
In  truth,  however,  the  general  climate  of  Japan  is  too 
cold  for  bananas,  or  even  for  oranges  and  lemons.  The 
summers  are,  indeed,  warm  enough  for  tropical  plants; 
but  the  winters  are  fatal  to  them,  so  that  it  is  useless 
to  look  here  for  a luxuriant  palm  vegetation  like  that 
of  the  Hawaiian  Islands. 

Even  as  far  south  as  Tokyo  (latitude  of  Raleigh, 
N.C.),  there  are,  on  the  average,  nearly  seventy  frosty 
nights  between  November  and  March.  Snow  sometimes 
covers  the  ground  for  a few  days,  and  the  thermometer 
may  fall  eight  or  nine  degrees  below  freezing  point. 
The  ice  is  seldom  thick  here;  but  in  January,  1868,  as 
Holtham  relates,  “foreigners  were  able  to  offer  the 
natives  the  spectacle  of  skating,  which  they  had  never 
seen.”  At  this  time  the  Japanese  are  wrapped  in  as 
many  coats  as  the  core  of  an  onion,  and  sit  shiveringly 
around  their  charcoal  fireboxes;  for  their  frail  houses 
have  no  stoves  or  fireplaces,  and  the  wind  comes  howl- 
ing through  the  holes  made  by  fingers  or  rats  in  the 
paper  panes  of  the  sliding  screens.  In  the  northern 
parts  of  the  main  island,  the  snow  is  often  so  deep  that 
the  villagers  have  to  make  steps  up  to  its  surface  from 
their  houses,  unless  they  wish  to  dig  tunnels  or  snow 
canons. 

It  is  not  in  Hondo,  however,  but  in  Yezo,  the  north- 
ernmost of  the  three  main  islands  of  the  Empire,  that 


OFF  FOR  JAPANESE  SIBERIA 


119 


winter  snows  and  blows  its  worst.  For  although  Yezo 
occupies  the  latitude  of  that  part  of  Italy  which  lies 
between  Rome  and  Venice,  its  climate  is  such  that  it 
may  be  properly  called  Japanese  Siberia.  Geographi- 
cally, too,  Yezo  is  a part  of  Siberia  rather  than  of 
Japan ; for  there  is  reason  to  think  that  it  was  for- 
merly connected  with  the  northern  island  of  Saghalin, 
which  Japan  ceded  to  Russia  in  1875,  and  which  itself 
is  practically  a peninsula  of  the  Siberian  mainland,  as 
it  can  be  reached  on  foot  in  low  tide  at  one  point, 
whereas  the  great  depth  of  the  Tsugaru  straits  make 
it  seem  probable  that  Yezo  never  was  a part  of  the  main 
island  of  Japan  — a probability  changed  to  certainty  by 
zoological  facts.  “Japan  [Hondo]  has  monkeys,  which 
Yezo  has  not.  Yezo  has  grouse,  which  Japan  has  not. 
Even  the  fossils  differ  on  both  sides  of  the  straits.”1 

To  these  climatic,  geological,  and  zoological  reasons 
for  calling  the  northern  island  “Japanese  Siberia,”  must 
be  added  the  coincidence  that  to  Yezo  the  dangerous 
Japanese  criminals  and  convicts  are  sent,  just  as  from 
Russia  they  are  exiled  to  Siberia. 

But  why  this  essay  on  Yezo  and  its  climate,  while 
we  are  still  in  Tokyo?  If  you  had  ever  been  in  that 
city  at  the  beginning  of  August,  you  would  not  ask 
such  a question,  for  you  would  know  that  then  the 
mere  thought  of  going  to  an  island  from  whose  moun- 
tains you  can  catch  a glimpse  of  Siberia,  acts  on  the 
nerves  like  a refrigerator.  I decided  to  go  to  Yezo  be- 
cause Tokyo  was  becoming  daily  more  glaring,  drowsy, 
damp,  and  uncomfortable.  Shoes  left  under  the  bed, 
or  clothes  packed  away  in  the  trunk  a few  days  were 

1 Chamberlain,  Things  Japanese.  See,  also,  Blakiston’s  Japan  in 
Yezo , and  the  writings  of  Professor  Milne. 


120 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


covered  with  green  mould,  and  the  whole  city  seemed 
as  clammy  as  the  inside  of  a bivalve.  About  the 
middle  of  July  there  had  indeed  been  a feAv  cool  days 
and  nights  when  an  overcoat  by  day,  and  a blanket  at 
night,  were  comfortable;  but  on  other  days  my  room 
and  the  air  outside  were  like  a Turkish  bath.  It  is  the 
dampness  that  makes  the  Japanese  heat  so  depressing 
in  summer,  the  cold  so  chilling  in  winter.  In  dry 
California  it  is  cooler  with  a temperature  twenty  de- 
grees higher ; in  dry  Colorado  it  is  warmer  with  the 
thermometer  twenty  degrees  lower.  Japan  is  a climatic 
resort  for  foreigners  in  China,  which  is  damper  yet  ; 
but  it  will  never  be  a climatic  resort  for  Californians. 
1 have  frequently  seen  statements  in  the  reports  of 
missionaries  that  they  could  do  only  half  as  much 
brain  work  iii  Japan  as  at  home.  My  own  experiences 
confirmed  this  statement. 

It  was  not  the  cooler  climate  alone  that  invited  a 
visit  to  mountainous,  river-netted  Yezo.  There  are 
cities  like  Hakodate,  the  “ Japanese  Gibraltar,”  and 
Sapporo,  the  centre  of  American  agricultural  and  in- 
dustrial experiments,  to  tempt  the  tourist,  and,  much 
better  than  that,  there  are  vast  gloomy  forests,  and 
numbers  of  the  aboriginal  Ainos  who  have  been  driven 
north  by  the  Japanese,  as  we  have  driven  our  “ Ainos,” 
the  red  Indians,  west.  On  the  way,  moreover,  there 
was  a chance  to  see  the  east  coast  of  Japan,  and  the 
famous  Pine  Islands. 

Before  starting  I had  a few  calls  to  make.  Mr.  Knei- 
sel,  concert  master  of  the  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra, 
had  kindly  given  me  a letter  to  Mr.  Dittrich,  director 
of  the  Imperial  Academy  of  Music  in  Tokyo.  Like 
other  foreign  employees  of  the  government,  Mr.  Ditt- 


OFF  FOE,  JAPANESE  SIBERIA 


121 


rich  had  the  privilege  of  renting  a house  of  his  own  in 
any  part  of  the  city  ; a privilege  of  which  he  had  made 
good  use  by  selecting  a site  on  one  of  the  numerous 
hilltops  included  within  Greater  Tokyo,  where  he  had 
a view  and  a breeze.  We  had  a long  conversation  on 
the  prospects  of  European  music  in  Japan,  which  then 
seemed  bright,  although  there  has  since  been  a reaction, 
Mr.  Dittrich  himself  having  resigned  in  April,  1894. 
I was  introduced  to  one  of  his  pupils,  who  was  in  his 
parlor,  not  to  take  a lesson,  but  to  make  a social  call. 
She  had  been  there  several  hours,  in  accordance  with 
Japanese  etiquette,  which  makes  long  visits  good  form 
— probably  owing  to  the  immense  distances  and  slow 
means  of  locomotion  which  discourage  frequent  calling. 
She  was  a violin  pupil,  spoke  a little  English,  and  told 
me  that  she  liked  our  foreign  music  better  than  their 
own.  After  she  had  left,  Mr.  Dittrich  asked  me  if  I 
thought  she  Avas  beautiful ; a question  which  I gently 
but  firmly  answered  in  the  negative,  Avhereupon  he 
laughed  and  replied  that  she  was  considered  a beauty 
by  his  ‘Japanese  friends,  who,  on  the  other  hand,  saw 
little  to  admire  in  those  of  their  countrywomen  who 
approached  types  that  would  be  considered  beautiful 
in  Vienna  or  New  York. 

Mr.  Dittrich  did  not  seem  alarmed  at  the  prospect 
of  a cholera  epidemic  in  the  capital.  He  said  that  his 
native  cook  was,  in  fact,  rather  hoping  there  would  be 
one,  on  the  ground  that  the  rice  crop  was  short ; where- 
fore there  would  not  be  enough  to  go  round  unless  the 
population  were  reduced.  Some  time  previously,  this 
reprobate  had  informed  his  employer  that  he  would  not 
mind  if  his  wife  died,  as  he  could  easily  get  another, 
but  that  he  should  be  very  sorry  to  lose  his  son.  This 


122 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


cook’s  predecessor  was  a man  who  knew  a little  German. 
One  day  he  failed  to  come,  but  sent  a note  to  Mr.  Ditt- 
rich in  which  the  dictionary  had  played  him  false.  He 
explained  that  his  mother-in-law  was  dead,  adding, 
“ Morgen  werden  wir  das  Aas  begraben  ” (to-morrow 
we  shall  bury  the  carcass).  Mr.  Dittrich  had  many 
things  to  tell  about  the  marvellous  adaptability  of  the 
Japanese  to  foreign  ways  ; and  he  told  a striking  story 
of  the  efficiency  of  the  postal  arrangements.  An  Aus- 
trian lady  of  his  acquaintance,  having  heard  that  he 
was  living  in  the  capital  of  Japan,  consulted  an  old 
encyclopedia  in  which  she  found  Kyoto  put  down  as  the 
capital.  So  to  Kyoto  she  forwarded  her  letter,  which 
nevertheless  he  received  all  right  in  Tokyo.  Forty 
years  ago  it  would  have  cost  about  twenty -five  dollars 
to  get  that  letter  from  the  old  to  the  new  capital  by 
express  runner.  To-day  the  cost  is  two  cents  ; modern 
Japan  having  one  of  the  best  and  safest  postal  systems 
in  the  world. 

My  next  call  was  on  Professor  Milne,  who  had  lived 
in  Japan  fourteen  years,  studying  the  phenomena  of 
earthquakes,  for  which  that  country  has  afforded  him 
such  frequent  opportunities  that  he  is  to-day,  perhaps, 
the  leading  authority  on  seismology  in  the  world.  He, 
too,  had  chosen  an  elevated  spot  for  his  residence,  which 
was  a pleasant  mixture  of  Japanese  coziness  and  Brit- 
ish comfort.  He  gave  me  valuable  points  regarding 
the  interior  of  Yezo,  and  presented  me  with  a copy  of 
the  Transactions  of  the  Seismological  Society  of  Japan, 
Yol.  IX.,  Part  ].,  which  is  brimful  of  interesting  and 
quaint  information  about  the  hundred  volcanoes  of 
Japan.  Mr.  Sliugio  had  suggested  that  instead  of 
taking  a professional  guide,  who  would  cost  me  a 


OFF  FOR  JAPANESE  SIBERIA 


123 


dollar  a day  and  travelling  expenses,  not  to  speak  of 
his  “ squeezes  ” on  every  hotel  bill,  I might  be  able  to 
secure  a student  who  would  accompany  me  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  trip,  without  asking  more  than  the  pay- 
ment of  his  expenses.  Professor  Milne  thought  this 
was  an  excellent  idea,  and  promised  to  see  if  he  could 
find  a candidate  among  his  pupils. 

On  the  following  evening  a young  man  called  with  the 
professor’s  card,  but  in  the  meantime  I had  already  made 
arrangements  with  a young  man  named  Yabi,  whom  Mr. 
Shugio,  with  his  usual  painstaking  kindness  and  courtesy, 
had  found  for  me.  He  was  not  a student,  but,  what 
was  better  still,  a young  author  and  journalist,  on  the 
staff*  of  the  Mainichi  Shimbun  (Daily  News),  one  of  the 
leading  Japanese  papers.  Pie  had  lived  in  San  Fran- 
cisco  several  years  and  spoke  English  quite  well.  A 
year  or  two  before  I met  him  he  had  been  imprisoned 
for  writing  an  article  in  which  the  government  was  cen- 
sured. The  prison  was  not  in  good  sanitary  condition, 
and  poor  Mr.  Yabi  was  taken  ill  with  typhoid  fever. 
Pie  escaped  with  his  life,  but  had  never  fully  recovered 
his  health,  wherefore  he  welcomed  an  opportunity  to  get 
a free  outing  and  vacation,  and  at  the  same  time  a chance 
to  see  parts  of  the  country  which  his  scant  salary,  and 
the  necessity  of  helping  to  support  his  orphaned  brothers 
and  sisters,  had  never  allowed  him  to  visit.  The  pro- 
prietors of  the  Mainichi  Shimbun  readily  granted  him 
leave  of  absence  for  a month,  without  stopping  his 
salary,  on  the  understanding  that  he  would  write  up 
our  trip  for  its  columns.  Thus  the  inhabitants  of 
Tokyo  were  kept  duly  informed  of  our  movements  on 
our  exploring  trip  into  the  virgin  forests  of  Yezo. 

In  describing  the  garden  party  at  Count  Okuma’s 


124 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


residence  I forgot  to  mention  that  Mr.  Shugio  intro- 
duced me  to  various  notabilities,  one  of  whom  was  Mr. 
Kitabatake,  chief  justice  of  Japan,  a venerable-looking 
gentleman,  with  a long  white  beard,  such  as  I never  saw 
on  any  other  Japanese.  On  hearing  that  I was  about  to 
leave  for  Yezo,  this  gentleman,  with  the  spontaneous 
courtesy  characteristic  of  all  the  Japanese  I have  ever 
met,  asked  me  if  1 should  like  a letter  of  introduction 
from  him  to  the  Governor-General  of  Yezo.  The  offer 
would  have  been  gratefully  accepted,  even  without  Mr. 
Shugio’s  explanation  that  it  would  mean  much  in  the 
way  of  superior  attention,  privileges,  and  comforts.  On 
the  following  morning  a messenger  brought  the  valuable 
document  to  my  hotel.  I had  also  the  government  invi- 
tation, previously  referred  to,  which  enabled  me  to  secure 
a passport  allowing  me  to  roam  at  will  all  over  Japan  — 
a very  unusual  privilege,  as  ordinary  passports  are  for 
routes  which  have  to  be  minutely  specified  beforehand. 
A further  advantage  conferred  by  this  invitation  card 
was,  that  on  presenting  it  at  government  railway  and 
steamship  offices  1 was  entitled  to  a twenty  per  cent 
reduction  in  fare — quite  an  item  in  a trip  as  far  as  Yezo. 
At  the  Tokyo  station  the  same  privilege  was  extended 
to  my  companion,  but  not  in  the  interior,  where  the 
agents  seemed  to  be  uncertain  as  to  what  they  should  do 
in  such  a case. 

The  simplest  way  to  go  to  Yezo  is  to  take  the  train  to’ 
the  northern  end  of  Hondo  and  cross  over  the  Tsugaru 
Strait  to  Hakodate  ; or  else  to  take  a Yokohama  steamer 
direct  to  Hakodate.  But  as  we  wanted  to  see  the  famous 
Pine  Islands,  we  took  the  train  only  as  far  as  Sendai, 
which  we  reached  after  a few  hours’  ride  through  rice- 
fields,  varied  by  an  occasional  lotos  pond,  and  mulberry 


TEA  PLANTATION 


OFF  FOR  JAPANESE  SIBERIA 


125 


plantations,  looking  like  California  vineyards,  as  the 
mulberries  are  not  allowed  to  grow  up  as  trees,  but  only 
as  clusters  of  tender  young  shoots  and  leaves,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  silkworms.  Sendai,  a city  of  90,000 
souls,  is  not  in  any  way  remarkable,  but  to  me  it  remains 
memorable  because,  although  I had  been  in  Japan  several 
weeks,  it  was  here  that  I spent  my  first  night  in  a purely 
Japanese  inn,  destitute  of  beds,  chairs,  tables.  However 
much  one  may  have  read  about  such  things,  the  real 
experience  always  comes  as  a surprise.  Our  dinner  was 
good  enough,  although  the  chicken  was  spoiled  for  me 
by  being  flavored  with  soy,  the  everlasting  national 
sauce,  which  I found  more  unendurable  from  day  to  day. 
W e had  raw  sliced  fish,  which  was  delicious  and  tender, 
melting  in  the  mouth  like  butter.  A young  girl  knelt 
opposite  us  and  refilled  our  lacquer  bowls  with  rice  till 
we  cried  “enough.” 

Japanese  inns  have  no  separate  dining  rooms,  every 
guest  taking  his  meals  in  his  own  room.  In  fact,  apart 
from  the  kitchen,  there  is  no  “division  of  labor,”  among 
the  rooms  of  a house,  be  it  public  or  private.  The 
space  assigned  to  us  was  first  our  parlor,  then  our 
dining  room,  and  finally  our  bedroom.  The  absence 
of  furniture  makes  these  transformations  easy  enough. 
For  a sitting  room  nothing  is  required  but  clean  mats 
to  kneel  or  lie  on,  and  a picture  screen  or  kakemono 
(hanging  picture  painted  on  silk)  to  look  at.  When 
you  feel  hungry  you  clap  your  hands  (as  they  do  in 
the  old  Arabian  tales  to  call  the  slaves),  and  at  once  all 
the  waiting  maids  within  hearing  answer  with  a long 
drawn  he-e-e-e  (hai),  while  one  of  them  comes  shuffling 
along  as  nimbly  as  possible,  gets  down  on  all  fours, 
and  asks  your  honorable  desires.  Having  received  the 


126 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


order,  she  touches  the  mat  once  more  with  her  forehead, 
goes  out  and  presently  returns  with  miniature  tables 
and  trays  of  food  — one  table  and  one  girl  to  each  diner. 
After  the  meal,  the  parlor  is  restored  by  simply  remov- 
ing the  trays  and  tables.  When  you  are  ready  to  re- 
tire, you  clap  your  hands  again,  the  girl  returns,  brings 
out  some  wadded  quilts  from  a closet,  spreads  them  on 
the  mats,  rolls  up  another  for  a pillow,  fastens  a large 
green  mosquito  net  to  the  corners  of  the  room  so  as  to 
completely  cover  the  bed  with  a reticulated  tent,  and 
there  you  are,  the  whole  performance  being  almost  as 
simple  as  opening  a folding  bed. 

Red  Indians  call  us  “ tenderfeet,”  because  we  cannot 
walk  barefooted  or  in  thin  moccasins.  The  Japanese 
probably  feel  tempted  to  call  us  “ tenderbacks,”  in  view 
of  the  fuss  we  are  apt  to  make  over  their  beds.  Accus- 
tomed as  we  are  to  soft  springs  and  mattresses,  we  find 
their  mats  and  quilts  so  hard  that  in  the  morning  it 
would  be  easy  for  us  to  give  a lecture  on  the  anatomy 
of  the  back,  locating  every  bone.  Sleeping  in  a Japan- 
ese bed  is  a good  deal  like  sleeping  in  a tent,  with  a 
handful  of  hay,  fern,  or  moss  for  a substratum.  But 
the  Japanese  are  kind-hearted  and  considerate.  Mind- 
ful of  our  pampered  backs,  they  mercifully  give  us  two 
or  three  quilts  to  lie  on,  where  one  suffices  for  their 
backs,  hardened  from  infancy.  In  the  larger  towns 
the  innkeepers  are  supplied  with  sheets  for  the  use  of 
foreign  guests.  As  for  their  makura,  or  pillows,  they 
know  that  it  is  useless  to  offer  them  to  us.  They  are 
crazy  little  flat  wooden  boxes,  about  the  size  of  a cigar 
box  set  on  edge,  but  with  a “rocker”  bottom  and  shaped 
on  top  to  receive  a roll  of  paper  stuffed  like  a doll,  for 
the  head,  or  rather  the  neck,  to  rest  on.  They  look 


OFF  FOR  JAPANESE  SIBERIA 


127 


more  like  the  ground  floor  of  some  Oriental  guillotine 
than  like  an  arrangement  for  courting  sleep.  Men  gave 
them  up  long  ago,  but  women  still  use  them,  to  prevent 
their  hair  from  needing  an  elaborate  dressing  every  day, 
and  the  pomade  from  soiling  the  quilts.  Instead  of 
makura  we  simply  had  a couple  of  quilts  rolled  up  and 
put  under  the  sheets.  This  rotund  pillow  had  a detest- 
able habit  of  getting  away  from  the  rest  of  the  bed,  in 
spite  of  the  valise  I had  placed  against  it,  but  that  did 
not  make  much  difference,  as  I was  kept  awake  anyway 
by  countless  black  bed-fellows  and  by  the  noise  and 
conversation  in  adjoining  rooms,  which  lasted  till  long 
after  midnight.  I could  not  stop  the  noise,  but  I got 
up  several  times  during  the  night  to  shut  the  door  lead- 
ing to  a part  of  the  house  whence  issued  those  foul 
odors  which  I soon  found  to  be  the  greatest  drawback 
toward  the  enjoyment  of  travel  in  Japan. 

In  the  morning  I found  that  the  bill  for  two  persons, 
including  dinner,  lodging,  baths,  breakfast,  and  kuruma 
to  and  from  the  hotel,  was  only  $2.18.  Seeing  my  look 
of  surprise,  Mr.  Yabi  said,  “ They  don’t  charge  journal- 
ists much.”  Here  was  a decidedly  un-Asiatic  touch, 
proving  the  “ power  of  the  press  ” in  the  very  antipodes. 
Having  settled  the  bill,  we  departed  amidst  a shower  of 
sayonara  from  the  host  and  his  wife  and  a dozen 
maids,  all  of  whom  had  come  out  to  bow  their  farewells. 


ON  A COAST  STEAMER 


THE  FAMOUS  PINE  ISLANDS THE  ISLAND  EMPIRE  — MEL- 
ONS AND  EELS JAPANESE  STEAMERS — HIGH  FARE 

MEALS  IN  “ FOREIGN  ” STYLE YANKEES  OUT-YANKEED 

PASSENGERS  AND  CARGO A LARGE  FISHING  VILLAGE 

If  Japanese  taste  in  scenery  was  reliable,  we  were 
now  about  to  see  one  of  the  “ three  most  beautiful  views  ” 
in  the  country  ; for  that  is  what  the  Matsushima  Archi- 
pelago and  the  Pine  Islands  of  Shiogama  are  reputed  to 
be.  Proceeding  from  Sendai  to  its  port  Shiogama,  we 
took  a small  steamer  which  on  its  way  to  the  fishing 
village  Oginohama  (where  we  were  to  wait  for  the 
Yezo-bound  steamer  from  Yokohama)  was  to  take  us 
through  this  famous  archipelago. 

There  are  places  in  Japan  — among  which  I should 
class  Lake  Biwa  — that  hardly  deserve  the  fame  which 
attaches  to  them  for  their  scenic  charms,  but  the  Pine 
Islands  are  quite  up  to  their  reputation.  They  are  all 
small,  but  unique  and  beautiful.  The  Japanese  claim 
that  there  are  808  of  them,  and  if  they  count  every 
isolated  rock  as  a separate  island,  we  can  understand 
how  they  make  out  that  their  Empire  consists  of  8800 
islands.  If  we  were  to  count  every  detached  rock 
along  the  coast  of  Alaska  as  an  island,  that  Territory 
would  include,  perhaps,  38,000  islands.  But  the  size 
or  number  of  these  Pine  Islands  is  a matter  of  small 

128 


ON  A COAST  STEAMER 


129 


importance  ; it  is  their  picturesqueness  that  cannot  fail 
to  fascinate  even  the  most  travelled  tourist. 

A few  of  the  smallest  islands  are  bare  rocks,  looking 
strangely  like  Japanese  junks  and  other  craft,  but  most 
of  them  wear  a green  vegetable  dress,  and,  no  matter 
how  small,  are  surmounted  by  a few  straggling  pines 
(sometimes  only  one  or  two)  of  a peculiar  species, 
which,  at  some  distance,  are  not  unlike  palms,  the  most 
picturesque  of  all  trees  — unless  that  honor  be  claimed 
by  weeping  willows,  which,  also,  are  simulated  on  some 
of  the  islets  by  small  pines  gracefully  overhanging  their 
sides.  One  island  is  a regular  cone-shaped  tower, 
with  a few  pines  on  top,  and  others,  seemingly  hori- 
zontal, sticking  out  on  the  sides.  The  guide  book  says 
that,  u Each  of  these,  down  to  the  least,  has  received  a 
separate  name,  many  of  them  fantastic,  as  4 Buddha’s 
Entry  into  Nirvana,’  ‘Question  and  Answer  Island,’ 
‘The  Twelve  Imperial  Consorts,’  and  so  on.”  It  adds 
that  the  islands  are  formed  of  volcanic  tufa,  into  which 
the  sea  makes  rapid  inroads,  especially  during  the  vio- 
lent southwest  gales  ; but  it  does  not  mention  a feature 
which  seemed  to  me  quite  as  striking  and  as  character- 
istic as  the  pines  ; namely,  the  caves  or  archways  which 
the  waves  have  worn  through  many  of  them  — in  some 
cases  perfect  tunnels,  through  which  small  boats  could 
easily  pass,  as  the  water  on  the  other  side  is  visible 
through  them.  One  island,  though  only  about  three 
hundred  feet  long,  has  four  of  these  tunnels,  side  by 
side.  Floating  islands  some  of  them  seem,  and  one  can 
easily  fancy  that  a strong  wind  would  blow  them  away 
like  rafts,  or  like  the  floating  icebergs  in  Glacier  Bay, 
Alaska.  But  from  the  islands  which  one  sees  on  the 
way  to  Sitka  they  are  quite  different ; for  their  green 


130 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


dress  consists  chiefly  of  young  firs  growing  down  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  water,  whereas  in  these  Pine  Islands 
the  lower  part  is  always  a precipitous  wall  of  yellow 
rock,  beautifully  marked  and  carved  by  the  waves,  and 
this  rock  is  fringed  with  low  vegetation  and  crowned 
by  one  or  more  pines. 

When  we  arrived  in  the  pretty  little  harbor  of  Ogino- 
hama,  Ave  Avere  received  at  the  wharf,  a projecting  pier, 
by  a bevy  of  smiling  and  chattering  tea  girls,  — six  of 
them,  — Avho  bowed  gracefully,  seized  our  valises,  and 
escorted  us  in  style  to  the  yadoya.  I Avas  sorry  to  have 
these  girls  carry  my  heavy  bag,  but  in  Rome  Ave  must 
do  as  the  Romans  do  ; if  I had  offered  to  carry  it  myself, 
I should  have  doubtless  committed 'a  grave  breach  of 
etiquette  and  forfeited  not  only  their  respect,  but  my 
chances  for  a first-class  dinner,  for  which  I Avas  more 
than  ready.  We  Avere  established  in  a room  on  the 
second  story,  overlooking  the  harbor,  and  Avliile  the 
meal  Avas  being  prepared,  Yabi  took  off  the  edge  of  his 
appetite  Avith  a small  yelloAv  melon,  looking  someAvliat 
like  a cantaloup,  but  with  no  more  SAveetness  or  flavor 
than  a raw  pumpkin.  Among  the  courses  Ave  had  for 
dinner,  I remember,  as  a special  delicacy,  a dish  of  eels 
baked  with  vegetables.  These  eels  are  very  small  and 
are  raised  in  the  irrigation  Avater  of  the  rice  fields. 

Having  Hax  hours  to  Avait  for  the  steamer  from  Yoko- 
hama, Ave  took  an  after-dinner  stroll  through  the  toAvn 
and  along  the  water.  There  Avas  nothing  particularly 
novel  in  the  street  scenes,  but  in  a garden  I saAv  a most 
beautiful  Avhite  lily  of  gigantic  size,  Avith  red  spots  like 
a tiger  lily,  and  stamens  adorned  Avith  anthers  almost 
as  large  as  almonds,  neatly  balanced  in  the  middle. 
On  the  beach,  near  the  wreck  of  a junk,  Ave  found  some 


ON  A COAST  STEAMER 


131 


strange  animals,  including  a species  of  crabs  which  first 
showed  fight,  and  then  surprised  me  by  backing  off. 
I had  expected  that  Japanese  crabs  would,  as  a matter 
of  course,  move  forward ; but  these  didn’t : probably 
they  had  forgotten  that  they  were  in  Japan. 

When  our  steamer  arrived,  we  found  that  we  had 
happened  upon  an  old  boat,  the  Wakanoura  ; still,  it  was 
comfortable  enough,  and  as  all  the  first-cabin  berths 
were  on  the  upper  deck,  they  were  free  from  ship  odors. 
The  captain,  first  officer,  and  engineer  were  Englishmen, 
and  I noticed  that  not  only  here,  but  on  the  smaller  boat 
that  had  brought  us  to  Oginohama,  on  which  officers 
and  men  were  Japanese,  orders  were  always  given  in 
English.  The  modern  Japanese  practice  has  been  to 
engage  foreigners  to  teach  them  their  arts  and  sciences, 
and  as  soon  as  the  lesson  has  been  learned,  to  take 
charge  of  matters  themselves.  Ocean  steamers  being 
somewhat  more  difficult  to  manage  than  trains,  foreign 
commanders  and  officers  have  been  retained  on  them 
longer.  When  we  consider  that  for  more  than  two 
hundred  years  the  Japanese  were  forbidden,  under 
penalty  of  death,  to  construct  or  use  any  vessel  larger 
than  an  ordinary  junk,  in  order  to  preserve  their  isola- 
tion from  the  rest  of  the  world,  we  can  hardly  wonder 
that  it  should  take  time  to  give  them  confidence  as  to 
the  management  of  our  huge  modern  steamers.  It  is, 
however,  only  a question  of  time  for  them  to  equal, 
possibly  to  surpass,  us  ; for  history  tells  us  that  the 
Japanese  are  born  navigators,  who  were  noted  during 
the  Middle  Ages  for  their  bold  voyages,  peaceful  and 
belligerent,  to  distant  lands,  their  pirates  being  for  a 
long  time  the  scourge  of  the  extreme  East.  To-day 
the  principal  steamship  company  already  owns  about 


132 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


fifty  vessels,  touching  at  various  Japanese,  Corean, 
Chinese,  Russian,  ancl  Hawaiian  ports.  In  1890  the 
number  of  steamers  that  entered  Japan  was  492  Eng- 
lish, 365  Japanese,  225  German,  26  French,  20  Ameri- 
can (U.S.),  22  Russian,  26  Norwegian,  4 Corean; 
while  the  number  of  sailers  was,  Japanese  156  (with  742 
junks),  British  50,  American  (U.S.)  33,  German  11, 
Russian  3,  Swedish  2.  This  list,  supplied  by  Mr. 
Henson  of  Hakodate,  shows  that  in  the  sailing  vessels 
Japan  is  far  ahead,  and  even  in  steamers  is  now  dis- 
tanced only  by  England,  which  she  will  doubtless  soon 
overtake. 

What  I found  most  extraordinary  about  the  steamers 
plying  between  Yokohama  and  Hakodate  was  that 
whereas  Japanese  railway  travel  is  perhaps  the  cheap- 
est in  the  world,  the  charges  made  by  these  steamers 
were  absurdty  high.  It  would  have  cost  us  twice  as 
much  to  go  from  Yokohama  to  Sendai  by  water  as  it 
did  by  rail,  whereas  in  all  other  parts  of  the  world 
travel  is  cheaper  by  steamer  than  by  railway.  The 
only  reason  I could  see  for  this  is  that  the  Japanese  are 
bound  to  be  contrary.  In  one  detail,  however,  Yankee- 
ism  pure  and  simple  had  been  introduced  on  our  steamer. 
When  I bought  ni}^  meal  tickets,  the  purser,  who  was 
a Japanese,  asked  me  if  I wished  to  take  my  meals  in 
foreign  or  native  style.  As  1 wanted  to  see  how  the 
natives  manage  their  eating  on  a steamer,  I naturally 
chose  the  latter,  — the  more  willingly  as  I was  told  that 
for  the  foreign  meals  two  dollars  more  would  be  charged 
for  the  trip.  Moreover,  Mr.  Yabi  had  winked  at  me 
and  said  it  would  be  “ half- -foreign."  When  the  bell 
rang  I went  to  the  dining  room,  expecting  to  find  mats 
to  squat  on  and  to  have  my  own  table  and  lacquer  trays 


ON  A COAST  STEAMER 


133 


and  chopsticks,  and  a girl  all  to  myself,  kneeling  op- 
posite, ready  to  bow  and  to  smile  and  to  fill  up  the 
sake  cup  and  rice  bowl  as  often  as  emptied.  But  I 
found  nothing  of  the  sort,  for  there  was  a regular 
foreign  table  and  chairs,  a table  cloth,  porcelain  plate, 
knives  and  forks,  and  a masculine  Chinese  waiter,  not 
a hit  pretty.  The  cook,  too,  was  a Chinaman ; but  at 
least  the  food,  I thought,  will  be  Japanese.  Judge  for 
yourself.  Our  first  course  was  Julienne  soup,  French 
style  ; the  second,  roast  veal,  German  style ; the  third, 
roast  duck,  American  style.  Vegetables  : boiled  pota- 
toes and  green  peas,  foreign  style.  Dessert:  pie  (ex- 
tremely un- Japanese),  American  cheese,  and  finally, 
plums  (ripe,  therefore  not  d la  japonaise ),  and  Chinese 
black  tea.  This  being  the  “Japanese”  edition  of  the 
dinner,  I had  considerable  curiosity  to  know  what  the 
“ foreign”  version  was  like.  On  comparing  notes  with 
the  other  foreigners,  who  had  paid  the  two  dollars  extra, 
I found  that  they  had  exactly  the  same  things,  with  this 
difference,  however,  that  they  had  paid  more  for  them 
and  had  had  to  wait  for  the  second  table,  when  every- 
thing was  cold  and  stale.  Obviously,  these  Oriental 
Yankees  are  making  rapid  progress  in  Occidental  civili- 
zation! How  the  great  American  Barnum  would  have 
chuckled  over  that  sly  scheme  for  getting  extra  dollars 
out  of  the  foreign  devils  1 1 

Although  our  purser  was,  as  I have  said,  of  the  native 
persuasion,  he  had  taken  his  cue  from  our  pursers,  for 
he  wore  fine  clothes  (foreign)  and  affable  manners,  and 

1 Perhaps  I ought  to  add,  that  in  the  second  cabin  and  the  steerage 
a real  Japanese  menu  was  provided.  Our  purser,  evidently  out  of 
courtesy,  ate  at  our  table  once,  but  then  he  deserted  us  for  the  Japa- 
nese, which  was  evidently  more  to  his  liking. 


134 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


took  care  of  the  ladies,  making  himself  useful,  among 
others,  to  a native  woman,  who  took  down  her  hair 
right  on  deck  and  put  it  up  again  — an  elaborate  and 
lengthy  process.  Another  native  woman  was  a nurse, 
who  carried  a white  baby  on  her  back,  just  as  she  would 
have  done  her  own  child.  I noticed  that  when  this 
child  walked,  it  was  somewhat  bow-legged,  and  had  the 
native  gait,  which  suggested  to  me  the  idea  that  per- 
haps one  reason  why  the  Japanese  turn  in  their  toes  in 
walking  may  be  found  in  this  cramped  way  of  carrying 
them.  It  seemed  very  odd  to  hear  this  foreign  child 
of  about  two  speak  Japanese  to  his  nurse  and  German 
to  his  father.  Most  of  the  foreign  passengers  were 
Germans,  going  North  to  spend  the  summer.  As  for 
the  Japanese  passengers,  there  were  not  many  in  the 
cabin,  and  those  that  were,  including  my  companion, 
were  all  seasick,  although  the  ocean  was  almost  as 
smooth  as  a river,  thus  bearing  out  a theory  explained 
to  me  on  the  City  of  Peking,  by  Captain  Cavarly,  that 
blondes  were  usually  better  “ sailors  ” than  brunettes. 

The  cargo  of  our  steamer  consisted  largely  of  num 
berless  baskets  of  fish,  destined  for  Hakodate,  especially 
a large  kind  of  eel,  of  which  large  numbers  are  caught 
here,  and  which  is  esteemed  a great  delicacy.  On  the 
return  trip,  these  steamers  take,  among  other  things, 
dried  salmon  and  fish  manure.  The  engineer  told  me 
these  trips  were  sometimes  memorable  for  their  odors. 
But,  in  going  to  Hakodate,  one  might  as  well  become 
accustomed  at  once  to  ancient  and  fish-like  smells, 
since  that  city,  though  now  containing  55,000  inhab- 
itants, remains  essentially  a large  fishing  village,  its 
chief  source  of  income  being  still  salmon,  herring,  sea- 
ears,  fish  manure,  and  edible  seaweeds. 


JAPANESE  GIBRALTAR 


SIGHTS  IN  HAKODATE NEW  BUDDHIST  TEMPLE AN  IN- 
TERVIEW — A JAPANESE  INTERIOR TOY  GARDEN  AND 

FISH  POND BARBER  AND  TAILOR HOW  TO  PLEASE 

GIRLS  — TAKEN  TO  THE  BATH COURTSHIP  AND  MAR- 
RIAGE-DINING AND  CLIMBING A SEA  BATH ROUND 

THE  ISLAND “ IRISH  STEWED  ” OTARU  PEASANTS 

MARVEL  OF  POLITENESS A MIXED  INN 

After  a smooth  passage  of  about  twenty-four  hours, 
during  which  we  passed  precipitous  coast  scenes  that 
reminded  me  of  Catalina  Island  in  California,  we  came 
in  sight  of  Hakodate  harbor,  and  could  not  help  being 
struck,  like  Commodore  Perry,  and  many  others  after 
him,  by  its  resemblance  to  Gibraltar.  These  supposed 
resemblances  often  remind  one  of  Hamlet’s  weasel-and- 
camel  cloud,  but  in  this  case  the  imagination  has  a real 
basis  of  comparison.  Although  the  Japanese  u Rock,” 
rising  behind  the  city,  is  greener  than  the  English,  and 
not  quite  so  high,  nor  bristling  with  guns,  the  general 
impression  given  by  Hakodate,  nestling  at  the  base  of 
this  mountain,  and  built  upon  its  slope,  with  a flat 
peninsula  (the  “ neutral  ground  ” of  Gibraltar)  con- 
necting it  with  the  rest  of  the  island,  is  strikingly  sim- 
ilar to  that  of  the  English  fortress  in  Spain  ; and,  what 
is  more,  owing  to  its  favorable  and  commanding  posi- 
tion on  the  narrow  strait  which  separates  Yezo  from 

135 


136 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


the  Japanese  mainland,  it  might  be  made  to  assume  a 
military  function  and  importance  similar  to  that  at 
Gibraltar.  Another  British  suggestion  was  the  pres- 
ence in  the  harbor  of  the  English  fleet,  which,  as  one  of 
our  officers  informed  me,  spends  the  winter  at  Hong 
Kong  and  the  early  summer  at  Yokohama,  following 
this  up  with  a visit  to  Hakodate  in  search  of  a cool  cli- 
mate. And  why  should  it  not,  since  the  summer  heat 
at  Hong  Kong  is  dangerous  to  foreigners  ? The  officer 
added  that  wherever  the  English  fleet  arrives,  beer 
shops  spring  up  at  every  corner  as  by  magic  — an 
observation  which  I was  able  to  verify  at  Hakodate. 

Leaving  our  bags  in  charge  of  a hotel  runner,  we 
walked  up  to  our  inn,  engaged  a room,  and  then  sallied 
forth  to  see  the  town.  In  Tokyo  we  could  hardly  have 
done  such  a thing  in  these  last  days  of  July,  owing  to 
the  heat  and  the  great  distances , but  here  the  sun’s 
rays  were  tempered  by  a cool  breeze,  and  it  was  a 
pleasure  to  walk.  Kurumas  are  not  so  fashionable 
here  as  in  Southern  Japan,  and,  after  all,  walking  is 
preferable  for  sight  seeing.  We  were  not  surprised 
to  And  that  every  other  house  was  a storage  place  for 
fish,  dried,  smoked,  canned,  or  fresh  ; but  it  was  odd  to 
see  dried  fish  stuck  on  poles,  invading  even  the  streets. 
Of  course  only  a small  proportion  of  these  fish  and 
other  marine  products  are  for  the  local  market ; the 
forty  million  Japanese  of  Hondo  get  a good  many 
of  them,  and  shiploads  are  also  sent  to  China,  where 
there  are  ten  times  forty  million  hungry  mouths  to 
feed. 

In  the  upper  part  of  the  city  we  stopped  half  an  hour 
to  watch  some  native  architects  at  work  on  a large  new 
Buddhist  temple.  Though  it  was  almost  finished,  the 


JAPANESE  GIBRALTAR 


13T 


scaffolding  still  remained,  and  was  gaily  adorned  with 
colored  flags  and  bunting.  Worshippers  were  already 
kneeling  inside  before  the  unfinished  altar.  The  steps 
leading  up  to  the  temple  were  encumbered  by  a number 
of  old  women  selling  sweetmeats  and  unripe  fruit. 
The  fact  that  new  temples  are  being  built,  shows  that 
Buddhism  has  not  yet  lost  its  hold  on  the  Japanese, 
although  the  government  favors  Shintoism,  and  no 
longer  persecutes  the  Christians. 

Returning  to  the  hotel,  we  found  a reporter  of  a local 
Japanese  newspaper  awaiting  us.  He  had  read  about 
our  projected  trip  into  the  interior  in  the  columns  of 
the  Mainichi  Shimbun , and  came  to  get  the  bill  of  par- 
ticulars, which  we  gave  him  as  far  as  it  had  been  made 
out.  In  the  morning  the  interview  duly  appeared  in 
Japanese  type,  which  Mr.  Yabi  translated  for  me:  it  had 
the  effect  of  bringing  another  reporter  after  us  the  next 
day.  While  Mr.  Yabi  sat  down  to  write  a letter  for 
the  Mainichi , I explored  the  inn,  which  was  entirely 
Japanese,  although  I had  been  asked  whether  I wanted 
foreign  chairs  and  a table.  I accepted  them  at  first, 
but  when  they  were  brought  into  the  room,  the  stiff, 
angular,  painted,  vulgar  things  presented  such  a painful 
contrast  to  the  neat,  tasteful,  Japanese  surroundings, 
that  I sent  them  away  in  disgrace,  and  lay  down  on  the 
soft,  clean  mats,  after  kicking  off  the  slippers  which  I 
had  brought  up  from  the  entrance,  where  there  are 
always  several  pairs  for  the  convenience  of  guests  who 
do  not  wish  to  walk  about  in  their  stockings,  although 
there  is,  in  warm  weather,  no  reason  Avhy  they  should 
not  do  that,  as  there  are  clean,  soft  mats  to  step  on  in 
all  the  rooms  and  passages.  There  was  now  no  furni- 
ture in  our  room  except  a folding  screen  and  the  dwarf 


138 


LOTOS-TIME  IX  JAPAX 


table  on  which  my  companion  was  writing  his  strange 
hieroglyphics,  on  a long-drawn-out  roll  of  paper.  The 
sides  of  the  room  were  not  disfigured  by  wall  paper, 
paint,  or  whitewash,  but  one  of  them  was  adorned 
with  an  oblong  kakemono,  on  which  were  painted  long- 
necked cranes,  in  those  graceful,  natural  attitudes  of 
flight  and  rest  of  which  Japanese  artists  alone  have 
copied  the  secret  from  nature.  It  was  not  a valuable 
picture,  but  it  is  a peculiarity  of  Japanese  art  that  it 
manifests  almost  as  much  taste  in  cheap  articles  for 
every-day  use  as  in  expensive  works  of  genius. 

Our  room  was  on  the  ground  floor  and  opened 
directly  on  a sort  of  Spanish  patio,  or  small  interior 
court,  with  a miniature  rock -girded  pond  in  the  centre. 
It  Avas  inhabited  by  goldfish,  carp,  eels,  a turtle  and 
a frog ; and  Avith  a gentle  exercise  of  the  imagination, 
such  as  one  needs  in  a theatre,  one  could  easily  fancy 
himself  gazing  at  a real  lake  and  landscape,  as  the 
Japanese  love  to  do  in  their  toy  gardens.  I had  some 
curiosity  to  see  Iioav  Japanese  fish  would  while  aAvay 
their  time,  and  I found  them  in  a particularly  frolic- 
some mood,  playing  regular  games,  as  it  seemed.  I 
remember  in  particular  a large  carp  lying  perfectly 
still,  but  Aviggling  its  tail  very  rapidly.  Presently  a 
small  goldfish  came  alongside,  playfully  biting  the  big 
fish  in  several  places,  Avhereupon  the  carp  suddenly 
swam  away,  but  soon  stopped  and  again  Avagged  its  tail 
persuasively,  seemingly  anxious  to  be  tickled  again. 
This  performance  Avas  repeated  over  and  over  again. 

After  I had  seen  enough  of  this,  my  attention  Avas 
attracted  by  a characteristic  scene  in  the  room  opposite 
ours.  A man  Avalked  in,  sat  doAvn,  and  produced  a 
razor  and  other  shaving  material.  In  the  public  barber 


JAPANESE  GIBRALTAR 


139 


shops  I had  seen,  the  victim  was  sitting  in  a chair  and 
the  shaver  standing  by  his  side,  trouserless.  But  here 
the  victim  remained  squatting  on  his  hind  legs,  and  the 
barber  managed  to  polish  him  off  without  the  use  of 
soap.  The  scene  was  hardly  as  amusing  as  that  in 
Rossini’s  Barber  of  Seville , but  it  had  its  novel  points, 
and  again  brought  to  my  attention  that  in  Japan  the 
prophet  does  not  go  to  the  mountain,  but  makes  the 
mountain  come  to  him.  In  T5kyo  I had  seen  clerks 
carrying  whole  mountains  of  assorted  goods  to  the 
houses  of  customers,  whereas  in  America  the  goods  are 
not  sent  until  selected  and  paid  for.  Mr.  Yabi  gave 
me  to  understand  that  it  was  not  good  form  to  go  out 
shopping,  and  that  the  proper  thing  was  to  have  the 
shop  come  to  you.  When  I asked  him  if  that  would  not 
cost  more,  he  replied,  “No  ; rather  less.”  Now  I wanted 
a kimono,  as  I was  beginning  to  envy  my  friend  his  con- 
venient Japanese  gown,  which  he  usually  put  on  after 
we  had  reached  our  room  ; it  seemed  as  comfortable  as 
pajamas  and  more  easily  put  on — dimply  throwing  it 
over  the  head  and  dropping  trousers  and  coat.  A word 
to  the  landlord,  and  in  half  an  hour  a tailor  came  along 
with  a bundle  of  samples,  which  he  opened  for  my 
selection  after  he  had  bounced  his  head  against  the  floor 
a few  times.  The  selection  was  soon  made,  and  the 
price  did  not  seem  prohibitive,  — $1.25  for  the  whole 
garment,  — but  presently  the  tailor  began  to  look  per- 
plexed and  to  size  me  up,  as  if  I was  a Goliath.  He 
said  that  he  had  never  seen  such  a big  man  (I  measure 
five  feet  ten  and  a-half),  and  that  the  width  of  Japanese 
goods  was  such  that  he  was  afraid  he  would  not  be  able 
to  make  the  gown  large  enough.  Whereupon  he  pro- 
ceeded (not  with  a tape  measure,  but  with  a stick)  to 


140 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


ascertain  my  gigantic  dimensions  — a process  which 
gave  him  and  our  waiter  girls  no  end  of  amusement,  in 
which  I tried  my  best  to  join.  Finally  the-  tailor  said 
that  he  could  make  it  almost  big  enough,  but  it  would 
cost  fifteen  cents  extra.  The  garment  was  duly  sent 
on  the  following  day,  and  when  it  arrived,  Mr.  Yabi 
remarked,  “ If  you  wear  our  costume,  Japanese  girls 
will  like  you.”  So  there  was  an  extra  inducement  for 
wearing  it,  even  if  it  was  somewhat  short  in  the  sleeves, 
which  was  my  fault,  not  the  tailor’s. 

Shortly  after  my  measure  had  been  taken,  one  of  our 
waiting  maidens,  a comely  lass  of  about  seventeen,  re- 
turned to  inform  us  that  the  bath  was  ready.  Mr. 
Yabi  told  me  to  go  ahead  with  her,  and  I followed 
meekly  as  a lamb,  ready  to  be  told  just  what  to  do,  and 
determined  not  to  flinch  at  any  ordeal.  The  bathroom 
was  divided  into  two  sections,  an  inner  one,  where  the 
bath  tub  was,  and  an  outer  one  for  undressing,  both  of 
them  exposed  to  view  from  the  corridors.  Having 
arrived  at  the  dressing  room,  I supposed  that  she  would 
leave  me  to  my  fate,  but  she  knew  her  duties  better. 
She  gave  me  to  understand  that  she  would  take  my 
coat,  so  I took  it  off*  and  gave  it  to  her,  expecting  her 
to  retreat.  But  she  waited  for  more,  and  more  I gave 
her,  till  there  was  absolutely  no  more  to  give,  where- 
upon she  quietly  deposited  her  plunder  on  a box  in  the 
corner,  and  opened  the  door  to  the  inner  room.  The 
floor  of  this  was  very  slippery,  and  I fell  flat  on  it.  In 
a moment  she  came  to  my  assistance  with  some  pitying 
exclamations.  I was,  however,  not  seriously  damaged. 
She  now  left  me  and  sent  in  a young  man,  who  soaped 
me  all  over,  poured  hot  water  over  me,  and  then  took 
me  to  the  large  bath  tub,  the  contents  of  which  had 


JAPANESE  GIBRALTAR 


141 


evidently  not  yet  been  used.  But  I was  forewarned, 
and,  therefore,  forearmed  ; that  is,  I put  my  forearm 
in  and  found  that  the  water  was  about  ten  or  twenty 
degrees  too  hot  for  a foreigner.  A few  buckets  of  cold 
water  remedied  the  evil,  and  after  a few  minutes’  im- 
mersion, I gave  myself  up  again  to  the  young  man  to 
be  towelled  and  dried.  When  it  was  all  over,  he  hinted 
gently  that  a fee  would  be  acceptable.  I gave  him  ten 
cents,  and  was  then  allowed  to  dress  and  return  to  my 
room,  enriched  by  one  more  Oriental  experience. 

The  next  day  I heard  about  a fussy  English  officer 
who  stirred  up  quite  a commotion  in  this  inn,  by  being 
unable,  in  his  Occidental  perverseness,  to  see  why  the 
bathroom  should  be  the  only  one  in  the  house  which 
had  no  screen,  or  curtain,  and  by  angrily  sending  for  one, 
and  refusing  any  assistance. 

Shortly  after  supper  Mr.  Yabi  clapped  his  hands. 
Our  girl  responded  promptly  with  a long-drawn-out 
“ Ha-e-e-e-e,”  and  when  she  came,  he  told  her  to  make 
up  the  beds.  Although  this  girl  was  always  smiling, 
and  seemed  as  merry  as  most  tea-house  attendants  are 
expected  to  be,  she  was  somewhat  dissatisfied  with  her 
lot.  She  had  been  brought  up  here  from  Southern 
Japan,  and  was  longing  to  go  back.  When  I asked  her 
if  she  would  like  to  go  to  America,  she  said  yes,  she 
would  like  that  better  still.  Then  she  wanted  to  know 
something  about  American  girls.  Happening  to  have 
the  photograph  of  an  American  beauty  in  my  valise,  I 
showed  it  to  her.  She  liked  it,  and  seemed  particularly 
struck  by  the  way  the  hair  was  done  up,  which  she 
admired,  although  she  said  she  was  afraid  it  would  not 
become  herself.  As  a matter  of  fact  it  would  have 
greatly  improved  her  appearance,  since,  like  all  Japanese 


142 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


girls,  she  wore  her  hair  combed  back  from  her  forehead 
— a coiffure  which  is  becoming  to  very  few  women. 

After  she  had  left,  two  men  came  in  to  put  up  the 
green  mosquito  net,  which,  covering  almost  the  whole 
room,  would  have  been  too  heavy  for  the  girls  to  handle. 
It  formed  a canopy  over  our  two  beds,  which  were 
separated  only  two  or  three  feet  from  each  other  — con- 
venient for  chatting.  I told  Yabi  that  I had  sometimes 
thought  that  the  Japanese  might  be  descendants  of  the 
Spaniards,  or  their  partial  ancestors,  the  Moors  and 
Arabs.  Why  ? Because  I had  already  noticed  several 
points  of  resemblance.  I had  seen  women  in  Tokyo, 
dressed  in  European  clothes,  with  a rose  in  their  foreign 
coiffure,  and  with  sparkling  black  eyes,  that  made  them 
look  very  much  like  Spanish  women.  I had  noticed, 
too,  that  in  the  streets  of  Tokyo,  as  on  the  alameda  of 
Madrid,  the  men  and  the  women  walked  in  separate 
groups,  and  here,  in  this  Hakodate  hotel,  was  a sort  of 
patio,  which  reminded  me  of  Seville.  Mr.  Yabi  replied 
that  the  Japanese  were  doubtless  a mixed  race,  and  it 
was  difficult  to  tell  what  the  ancestral  ingredients  were. 
He  believed  that  the  separation  of  the  sexes  on  the  streets 
could  be  traced  back  to  the  laws  of  the  Chinese  Con- 
fucius, which  had  been  so  largely  adopted  in  Japan,  and 
that  these  extended  to  the  home  too  ; for  whereas  a mar- 
ried woman  might  go  about  freely  (especially  if  accom- 
panied by  a servant),  it  was  not  proper  for  her  to  receive 
a man  at  home  in  the  absence  of  her  husband.  As  for 
unmarried  girls  in  the  upper  classes,  they  were  closely 
watched,  and  there  was  no  such  thing  for  them  as  a 
“harmless  flirtation.”  They  might  go  to  picnics  and 
receptions,  or  perhaps  even  to  the  theatre,  but  only  with 
their  parents,  and  never  with  a young  man  alone. 


JAPANESE  GIBRALTAR 


143 


Courtship  is  not  carried  on  by  the  young  folks  them- 
selves, but  the  engagement  is  brought  about  in  a busi- 
ness-like way  by  the  aid  of  a nakodo,  or  middleman. 
He  admitted  that,  with  all  these  restrictions  and  pre- 
cautions, married  women  were  sometimes  faithless,  and 
girls  went  astray,  but  not  more  frequently,  in  his  opin- 
ion, than  in  other  countries  , and  he  scouted  the  notion, 
current  among  the  merchants  of  the  treaty  ports,  that 
virtue  is  rare  in  J apan  — a notion  which  simply  showed 
that  their  experience  was  limited  to  one  class  of  women. 

No  doubt  he  was  right  in  his  remarks  on  Japan,  but 
evidently  he  had  not  deeply  studied  the  subject  of  love 
and  courtship  while  in  America,  for  he  asked  me  if  it  was 
customary  there  for  an  engaged  couple  to  go  to  house- 
keeping at  once.  He  said,  also,  that  in  Japan  there  are 
practically  no  bachelors  and  old  maids,  it  being  cheaper 
for  men  to  marry  a housewife  than  to  remain  single,  and 
in  every  way  pleasanter,  as  there  are  no  bachelor  quarters 
or  even  boarding  houses.  Japanese  girls  are  less  pre- 
tentious than  Americans,  and  more  willing  to  work ; 
hence  all  get  married  between  fourteen  and  twenty,  the 
men  between  eighteen  and  twenty-five.  Some  have  a 
wife  and  one  or  more  concubines ; others  hire  a girl  at 
five  dollars  to  do  all  their  work  and  bidding  ; in  which 
practice  many  foreigners  follow  their  example.  I finally 
asked  him  which  city  of  his  country  was  reputed  to  have 
the  most  beautiful  women.  He  said  Kyoto  ; and  since 
Kyoto  was  on  our  schedule,  I composed  myself  for 
slumber,  prepared  to  dream  of  the  belles  of  Kyoto. 

I forgot  to  mention  our  dinner,  which  had  consisted 
entirely  of  fish  and  eggs  — omelette  in  the  soup  and 
omelette  on  a plate.  Again  I relished  the  raw  fish,  but 
by  far  the  best  thing  we  had  was  an  immense  eel  — one 


144 


LOTOS-TIME  IX  JAPAX 


of  those  our  steamer  had  brought  up  from  Oginohama. 
It  was  cooked  whole  and  served  in  a peculiarly  shaped 
two-story  lacquered  box.  We  ate  what  we  could  of  it, 
and  Mr.  Yabi  gave  directions  to  have  the  rest  saved 
for  next  day’s  lunch,  as  it  was  an  extra,  not  included  in 
the  regular  fare.  The  host  had  come  to  ask  if  I knew 
how  to  use  chopsticks  or  wanted  knife  and  fork. 
Afterwards  he  sent  in  some  “ French  butter,”  in  an 
unopened  can  ; I returned  it  unopened.  One  of  our 
breakfast  dishes  was  a soup  with  shreds  of  seaweed 
floating  in  the  bowl.  The  soup  was  good,  but  the  sea- 
weed was  too  fishy  and  tannic  to  suit  my  taste.  I 
asked  Yabi,  if  it  wasn’t  of  the  kind  that  the  poor  lived 
on,  but  he  said  no,  it  was  a more  expensive  kind,  and 
was  considered  quite  a delicacy.  It  must  be  an  ac- 
quired taste. 

Having  been  informed  that  there  was  a fine  view 
from  Hakodate  Head,  the  peak  at  the  base  of  which  the 
city  lies,  we  decided  to  devote  the  forenoon  to  climbing 
it.  On  the  way  we  ran  across  an  acquaintance  of  Mr. 
Yabi,  a young  merchant  who  spoke  a very  little  Eng- 
lish. We  invited  him  to  join  us,  but  he  did  not  appear 
anxious  to  exert  himself,  alleging  as  an  excuse  that  he 
had  on  his  native  clothes,  which  would  put  him  at  a 
disadvantage  compared  with  us,  with  our  foreign  trou- 
sers. He  was  right ; comfortable  as  is  the  kimono  in 
the  house,  it  is  on  the  street,  and  especially  in  climb- 
ing, as  great  an  impediment  to  a man  as  her  skirts  are 
to  a woman.  In  course  of  our  conversation  the  young 
merchant  made  a funny  but  perfectly  natural  mistake. 
We  had  exchanged  cards,  and  in  addressing  me  he 
repeatedly  called  me  Mr.  Henry.  Evidently  he  had  not 
yet  got  to  the  page  in  his  grammar  where  he  would 


JAPANESE  GIBRALTAR 


145 


have  found  out  that  we  topsy-turvy  Americans  say  and 
write  “Mr.  John  Brown”  instead  of  “Brown  John  Mr.” 
as  we  ought  to,  and  would  if  our  minds  were  logically 
constructed. 

A pleasant  road  led  us  through  shady  trees  up  to  the 
peak,  which  is  1157  feet  above  the  sea,  and  commands 
an  extensive  view,  embracing  volcanoes,  rivers,  seacoast 
villages,  and  a picturesque  lighthouse.  The  climb  re- 
minded me  somewhat  of  a similar  ascent  of  a peak  near 
Malaga,  but  I missed  the  intense  blue  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean. The  foreign  men-of-war  lay  like  toy  steamers 
below  us,  but  part  of  the  harbor  was  hidden  by  a cloud 
beneath  us.  The  city  itself  presented  a most  extraor- 
dinary aspect.  The  low  houses,  almost  all  of  the 
same  level,  looked  as  if  some  giant  had  sat  down  on 
them,  crushing  them  flat  as  boards ; and  the  prevailing 
hue  was  as  gray  as  if  one  of  the  neighboring  volcanoes 
had  strewed  a thick  layer  of  ashes  and  stones  over  them. 
Only  here  and  there  was  the  gray  monotonous  level 
interrupted  by  a temple,  in  one  place  by  a large  tank, 
calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  Hakodate  is  ahead  of 
most  Japanese  cities  in  having  an  excellent  system  of 
waterworks.  These  were  constructed  in  1889,  and  made 
it  possible  for  the  inhabitants  to  close  up  their  danger- 
ous wells  and  get  their  water  fresh  and  pure  from  a 
mountain  stream  seven  miles  away.  The  backward- 
ness of  Japan  in  sanitary  matters  may  be  inferred  from 
this,  that,  recent  as  these  waterworks  are,  Hakodate 
was  preceded  by  only  one  Japanese  city  in  adopting 
this  reform. 

The  afternoon  was  w^arm  enough  to  suggest  the  idea 
that  a bath  in  Japanese  salt  water  would  be  a pleasant 
novelty.  So  we  went  to  the  beach,  and  found  a booth, 


146 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


where  we  succeeded  in  getting  two  towels  from  an  old 
woman.  Bathing  suits  appeared  to  be  an  unknown 
luxury,  nor  did  they  seem  necessary  in  this  climate, 
so  I concluded  to  follow  the  example  of  some  young- 
sters who  were  tumbling  about  in  the  waves,  and  two 
naked  men  riding  in  their  horses  for  a swim.  As  my 
companion  did  not  seem  to  care  for  a sea  bath,  I set 
him  to  guard  my  watch  and  my  clothes,  and  then  made 
for  the  water,  which  I found  of  a most  agreeable  tem- 
perature. The  spectacle  of  a naked  foreigner  in  the 
breakers  attracted  a number  of  boys  and  girls,  who 
probably  marvelled  at  my  white  skin  (the  only  thing 
in  a blond  which  the  Japanese  admire),  and  afterwards 
seemed  greatly  interested  in  watching  the  process  of 
getting  into  a suit  of  foreign  clothes.  Among  the 
spectators  was  a young  woman  who  had  a novel  way  of 
holding  a baby  on  her  back.  Instead  of  fastening  it 
on  the  outside  of  her  dress,  she  had  it  under  her  dress, 
right  on  her  skin,  with  only  its  head  peeping  out  — an 
arrangement  which  must  be  pleasanter  for  the  baby  in 
winter  than  in  summer. 

This  sea  bath,  combined  with  the  climb  up  the  peak 
and  a bottle  of  hot  sake  for  a nightcap,  gave  me  a 
deep  and  refreshing  night’s  sleep,  such  as  I had  not 
enjoyed  since  reaching  Japan.  It  began  at  nine,  so  that 
I was  not  disgusted  to  be  aroused  at  five  by  the  usual 
morning  racket.  Our  plan  was  to  leave  Hakodate  be- 
fore noon,  by  one  of  the  steamers  which  every  four 
days  round  the  island  to  the  left  up  to  Otaru,  which 
is  second  in  size  among  the  seaports  of  Yezo,  and  situ- 
ated only  a short  distance  from  Sapporo,  the  American- 
ized capital  of  the  island.  When  mine  host  presented 
the  bill,  on  his  knees,  I thought  at  first  that  the  only 


JAPANESE  GIBRALTAR 


147 


way  to  square  matters  was  to  exchange  my  letter  of 
credit  for  it.  The  bill  was  as  long  as  Leporello’s  list 
of  Don  Juan’s  love  affairs,  every  item,  including  each 
separate  bottle  of  beer  and  sake,  being  marked  in 
admirable  Japanese  caligraphy.  It  was  really  a work 
of  art,  and  it  has  since  formed  one  of  the  choicest 
ornaments  in  my  bedroom  at  home.  That  large  eel,  I 
found,  cost  $1  alone,  and  the  whole  bill,  two  persons 
for  two  days,  was  $8.  This  can  hardly  be  called  exces- 
sive, still  it  seemed  to  indicate  that  journalists  receive 
less  discount  in  Hakodate  than  at  Sendai. 

The  steamer  Takasago  was  not  so  large  as  the  Waka- 
nura  which  had  brought  us  up  the  coast  of  Hondo,  but 
it  had  comfortable  cabins.  The  fare  again  included 
Japanese  meals,  with  $2  extra  for  “ foreign  style.”  At 
dinner  I was  rather  appalled  to  see  “ Irish  stewed  ” on 
the  bill  of  fare,  but  was  relieved  to  find  that  it  was  only 
Irish  stew.  For  breakfast  we  had  about  the  same  menu 
as  for  dinner  — coffee,  oatmeal  and  milk,  beefsteak, 
eggs,  curry  and  rice,  and  “ Irish  stewed  ” again,  besides 
American  cheese,  prunes,  and  — peanuts  ! But  I must 
add,  in  justice,  that  no  one  ate  these  at  breakfast. 
There  were  ten  Japanese  at  our  table,  but  none  of 
them  spoke  a word,  although  they  are  always  talkative 
and  noisy  enough  when  dining  in  their  own  rooms. 

In  the  morning  we  were  far  up  the  western  side  of 
the  island,  on  the  Sea  of  Japan,  of  which  few  visitors 
to  that  country  get  a glimpse,  as  most  of  the  cities  and 
places  of  interest  lie  on  the  east  coast.  Numerous 
fishing  boats,  each  with  one  or  two  sails,  indicated  that 
we  were  nearing  Otaru,  on  the  north  coast  of  Yezo. 
We  soon  reached  it,  and  sending  our  baggage  ahead  to 
the  inn,  we  disembarked  for  a walk  to  see  the  town  and 


148 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


its  surroundings.  It  is  a dismal  place,  where  life  must 
be  monotonous  enough  for  a hermit.  The  great  busi- 
ness of  the  people  is  catching  herring,  and  most  of  the 
houses  are  low,  decaying  fishermen’s  huts.  Far  out  on 
a pier  a large  vessel  was  loading  coal  which  had  been 
brought  by  rail  from  the  Poronai  mines  in  the  interior, 
whither  we  were  bound.  Our  train  was  not  to  start  for 
several  hours,  and  as  the  town  itself  seemed  a pleasant 
place  to  get  away  from,  we  started  up  the  hill  for  the 
woods  and  suburban  gardens.  Many  peasants  passed  us 
with  their  burdens ; most  of  them  were  women,  with  ex- 
traordinarily muscular  legs,  bare  to  the  knee.  Others 
had  their  limbs  swathed  in  clinging  cloth,  and  with 
their  enormous  umbrella  hats  — like  those  of  the  Moor- 
ish women  of  Tetuan  — they  seemed  to  belong  to  a 
different  race  from  the  delicate  tea-house  girls.  The 
patois  of  these  peasants  was  so  peculiar  that  Mr.  Yabi 
could  not  understand  their  conversation,  although  he  had 
no  difficulty  with  the  townspeople.  The  Japanese  lan- 
guage seems  difficult  enough  without  such  differences 
of  dialect ; still,  in  this  respect  China  is  much  worse, 
for  there  the  coolies  from  different  provinces  are  obliged 
to  use  “ Pidjin  English  ” if  they  wish  to  converse  with 
one  another. 

Many  of  these  Otaru  peasants  were  carrying  baskets 
of  vegetables,  chiefly  new  potatoes  of  a lovely,  clean, 
pink  color.  Yezo  potatoes  are  very  good,  and  the  peo- 
ple know  how  to  cook  them  without  making  them 
soggy;  at  least  that  was  my  experience.  We  soon 
struck  a small  village,  situated  near  a brook,  which 
drained  the  fields  sloping  from  it  — fields  manured 
with  sewage  from  the  town ; yet  here  the  women  came 
with  their  buckets  to  get  water  for  cooking  and  drink- 


JAPANESE  GIBRALTAR, 


149 


ing.  Turning  aside  toward  the  seashore,  we  came  to  a 
place,  just  outside  the  city,  where  a number  of  men 
were  digging  away  the  hillside,  to  make  room  for  more 
houses,  in  a cool  situation,  convenient  for  the  fisher- 
men. As  we  were  about  to  leave  for  the  interior,  not 
to  see  the  ocean  again  for  a week  or  two,  I suggested 
that  another  sea  hath  would  be  a pleasant  diversion,  and 
this  time  my  companion  joined  me.  There  was  no 
sandy  beach,  the  shore  being  disagreeably  rocky,  but 
we  managed  to  find  a place  to  undress,  and  then  swam 
out  into  the  bay.  Through  the  transparent  water  we 
had  glimpses  of  various  kinds  of  seaweeds,  growing 
luxuriantly  in  their  marine  garden,  and  swayed  by  the 
slow  waves  as  by  a gentle  breeze.  In  the  shallow  places 
we  picked  up  a number  of  beautiful  blue  and  pink  sea- 
stars,  apparently  the  same  kinds  that  adorn  the  ocean 
shallows  of  Oregon.  When  we  were  out  pretty  far,  I 
noticed  that  some  of  the  workmen  approached  our 
clothes ; I expressed  a fear  that  they  might  steal  my 
watch  or  purse ; but  Mr.  Yabi  said  there  was  no  dan- 
ger. When  we  returned,  what  do  you  think  we  found 
that  these  laborers  had  done  ? They  had  spread  two 
clean,  new  mats  over  the  sharp  rocks,  so  that  we  might 
have  a place  to  dress  comfortably ! In  what  other 
country  would  such  an  act  of  gratuitous  courtesy  enter 
the  minds  of  common  workmen  ? They  looked  pleased 
to  see  us  use  them,  and  I thought  that  perhaps  they 
expected  a fee,  but  Mr.  Yabi  said  no,  they  did  it  to 
please  us,  and  would  be  offended  at  an  offer  of  money. 
I. was  now  convinced  that  the  courtesy  of  the  Japanese 
is  not  a mere  surface  polish,  like  that  of  Occidentals, 
rubbed  off  as  easily  as  shoe  blacking,  but  genuine  and 
durable  as  the  lustre  of  their  lacquer. 


150 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Our  inn  proved  to  be  one  of  those  hybrid  mixtures 
of  tea  house  and  foreign  hotel  which  are  among  the 
curiosities  of  modern  Japan.  If  you  wish  to  be  enter- 
tained in  Japanese  style,  you  remain  on  the  ground  floor, 
take  off  your  shoes  on  the  verandah,  and  at  once  enter 
your  own  matted  room,  with  screens  and  sliding  doors. 
If  you  choose  foreign  style,  you  go  upstairs  into  a general 
carpeted  sitting  room,  which  you  can  enter  with  boots  on. 
Nay,  more,  even  in  this  room  you  can  still  have  your 
choice,  for  on  one  side  there  is  a slightly  elevated  plat- 
form covered  with  mats  on  which  those  who  choose  to 
take  off  their  footgear  can  squat  or  recline,  while  for 
others  there  are  chairs  on  the  carpeted  part  of  the  room. 
We  partook  of  a simple  lunch,  and  in  the  meantime  the 
attendants  bought  our  tickets  and  checked  our  baggage, 
as  is  the  custom  of  Japanese  inns,  where  all  such 
errands  are  attended  to  without  extra  charge.  A party 
of  Americans,  including  a funny  man,  took  lunch  with 
us.  One  of  the  ladies  was  very  anxious  to  ascend  one 
of  the  Yezo  volcanoes,  and  wondered  whether  any  of 
them  smoked.  “If  they  are  Japanese,”  replied  the 
funny  man,  “ you  will  find  them  smoking,  as  a matter 
of  course.” 


AMERICAN  SAPPORO 


NATIVES  IN  THE  OCEAN CAPITAL  OF  YEZO  — RUSSIAN  DE- 
SIGNS  AMERICAN  FARMS  AND  FACTORIES EXPENSIVE 

EXPERIMENTS CITY  AND  SUBURBS CALLING  ON  THE 

GOVERNOR-GENERAL A EURASIAN  HOUSE BEER  AND 

FRUIT THE  SUPERINTENDENT’S  KINDNESS A UNIQUE 

MUSEUM  A DAIRY  SEEING  THE  FACTORIES  TEA- 
HOUSE GIRLS LAMPS  AND  WASHSTANDS AMERICAN 

AND  ASIATIC  CORRESPONDENCE  — A COMIC  RESEMBLANCE 

The  twenty-two  mile  railroad,  from  Otaru  to  Sapporo 
is  remarkable  for  being,  according  to  report,  the  cheapest 
ever  built  anywhere.  It  may  also  claim  the  distinction 
of  being  one  of  the  slowest  and  most  uncomfortable. 
We  were  foolish  enough  to  buy  first-class  tickets,  only 
to  find  that,  except  in  being  more  roomy,  the  first-class 
car  was  less  comfortable  than  the  second-class,  as  its 
hard  seats  were  arranged  along  the  sides,  while  in  the 
second-class  you  could  at  least  sit  and  look  forward. 
In  itself  the  trip  proved  extremely  interesting,  full 
of  novel  sights.  For  half  an  hour  or  so  the  road  is 
obliged,  by  overhanging  rocks,  to  follow  along  the 
semicircular  coast  so  close  to  the  sea  that  there  is 
hardly  room  for  the  numerous  fishermen’s  huts  between 
the  rails  and  the  waves.  Wretched  huts  they  are,  with 
roofs  made  up  of  what  looked  like  corn  husks,  and  sides 
consisting  of  rude  mats  hanging  down  from  the  eaves, 

151 


152 


LOTOS -TIME  IN  JAPAN 


affording  about  as  much  shelter  as  a bird’s  nest  under 
a tuft  of  grass.  Evidently  the  whole  population  lives 
on  fishing  and  seaweeding.  Several  kinds  of  kelp  and 
other  seaweeds  were  spread  out  on  the  rocks  every- 
where to  dry,  like  hay,  scenting  the  air  with  a marine 
odor  which  I found  rather  more  agreeable  when  thus 
mingled  with  the  sea  breezes  than  when  emanating 
from  a steaming  soup  bowl. 

The  ocean  itself  presented  an  animated  scene.  The 
whole  population  appeared  to  be  amphibious,  the  shal- 
lows being  full  of  boys  and  girls,  who  seemed  to  think 
that  in  such  warm  water  no  clothing  was  needed,  not 
even  swimming  tights.  Here  was  a boat  full  of  naked 
boys,  standing  up  and  fishing  ; there,  a group  of  women, 
wading  in  the  water,  holding  each  a bucket,  into  which 
she  gathered  some  marine  product  or  other.  It  was  a 
unique  panorama  of  oceanic  village  life. 

At  last,  the  train  left  the  ocean,  and  made  for  the 
interior,  through  swamps  covered  with  a dense,  luxuri- 
ant vegetation,  including  a few  flowers  and  plenty  of 
lovely  red  berries.  Near  Sapporo  we  noticed  some 
highly  cultivated  fields,  and  a military  station  was 
pointed  out  to  us.  We  were  now  entering  a town  — 
the  capital  of  Yezo  — unique  among  Japanese  cities  for 
its  origin.  Hakodate  and  Otaru  grew  up  into  cities, 
because  they  had  good  harbors  and  formed  convenient 
centres  for  the  fishing  trade,  whereas  Sapporo  was 
created  a city  by  order  of  the  Imperial  Government  at 
Toky5.  For  this  there  were  several  reasons.  Yezo 
is,  at  present,  the  northernmost  of  the  large  Japanese 
islands;  but  it  was  not  always  so.  Up  to  1875  the 
island  of  Saghalin  also  belonged  to  Japan;  but  in  that 
year  the  big  boy  Russia  bullied  the  little  boy  Japan  into 


AMERICAN  SAPPORO 


153 


exchanging  that  island  (which  is  valuable  for  its  furs 
and  fisheries)  for  the  barren  and  useless  Kurile  Islands, 
so-called  by  the  Russians  because  they  could  see  the 
Jcuril  (smoke)  of  their  volcanoes  from  the  Siberian 
Kamschatka.  To  prevent  Yezo  from  being  similarly 
gobbled  up  by  the  voracious  Russian  ogre  (he  made  a 
serious  mien  to  do  so),  the  Japanese  government  decided 
that  it  would  be  advisable  to  colonize  Yezo  and  multiply 
its  scant  population  (then  only  six  and  a half  persons 
to  the  square  mile)  as  a bulwark  against  further  Mus- 
covite aggressions.  Such  colonization  would,  at  the 
same  time,  serve  as  a convenient  way  of  relieving 
Hondo  of  part  of  its  surplus  population. 

But  as  the  climate  of  Yezo,  with  its  seven  months  of 
Siberian  cold  and  its  six  feet  of  snow,  did  not  tempt 
any  considerable  number  of  the  Japanese  to  pull  up 
their  stakes  and  build  again  so  far  away  from  their  old 
homes,  the  government  offered  inducements  to  samurai 
and  others,  in  the  shape  of  free  homes  and  grants  of 
land,  and  at  the  same  time  undertook  to  give  them 
employment  by  establishing  a number  of  agricultural 
and  industrial  enterprises,  with  Sapporo  as  a centre. 
Sapporo  itself  was  laid  out  in  the  rectangular  American 
fashion ; and  America  also  was  the  model  for  the  vari- 
ous gigantic  enterprises  referred  to,  including  grain 
fields,  experimental  farms  for  various  vegetables,  trees, 
flowers,  and  fruits,  horse  and  cattle  breeding  farms, 
vineyards,  mulberry  and  hop  plantations,  sawmills,  a 
brewery,  and  so  forth.  An  American,  General  Capron, 
was  placed  at  the  head  of  this  department,  called  the 
Kaitakushi.  It  is  said  that  $50,000,000  were  thus 
expended  in  experiments,  many  of  which  proved  fail- 
ures. But  Sapporo,  at  any  rate,  benefited  by  them, 


154 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


and  has  become  a unique  city,  in  which,  although  only 
a few  Americans  reside  there,  the  practical  American 
spirit  prevails  to  a striking  degree,  modifying  the  details 
of  life  more  than  in  any  other  Japanese  city.  Hence 
the  seemingly  paradoxical  heading  which  I have  ven- 
tured to  give  to  this  chapter. 

Conspicuous  among  the  American  buildings  in  Sap- 
poro is  the  hotel,  built  originally  for  occupancy  by  the 
Mikado,  when  he  was  expected  to  visit  the  most  north- 
ern of  his  cities.  We  were  told  that  it  was  well  man- 
aged, in  the  style  of  the  foreign  hotels  at  Yokohama, 
but  as  a matter  of  course  we  went  to  one  of  the  Japan- 
ese inns,  as  did  the  other  foreigners  on  our  train  ; either 
because  they  knew  it  would  be  cheaper,  or  because,  like 
ourselves,  they  wanted  to  see  all  they  could  of  J apanese 
life.  Shortly  after  our  arrival,  I sent  my  letter  of  in- 
troduction to  the  Governor-General,  who  sent  back 
word  by  one  of  his  attendants  that  he  would  be  pleased 
to  have  me  call  the  next  day  before  eight  in  the  morn- 
ing or  after  three  in  the  afternoon.  It  did  not  take 
me  long,  as  the  u gentle  reader  ” may  possibly  guess,  to 
make  my  choice,  even  though  it  would  have  been  more 
novel  and  Japanesy  to  call  on  one  of  the  highest  officials 
in  the  Empire  at  seven  in  the  morning. 

An  exploring  expedition  revealed  the  fact  that  Sap- 
poro is  indeed  a curious  mixture  of  America  and  Japan  ; 
America  predominating  in  the  surroundings,  Japan  in 
the  city  itself.  The  streets  are  laid  out  as  regularly 
as  an  American  chessboard,  but  the  shops  and  the 
shoppers  are  Japanese,  in  many  cases  very  much  so. 
Certainly  there  was  nothing  American  in  the  women 
who  helped  the  men  with  scythes  in  cutting  the  barley 
in  the  suburban  fields,  nor  in  the  girls  of  thirteen  or 


AMERICAN  SAPPORO 


155 


fourteen  who  were  cleaning  the  streets  and  roads  with 
hoes,  nor  in  the  women  with  bared  bosoms  leading  their 
perfectly  naked  children  across  the  bridge  or  down  the 
streets,  nor  in  the  blind  shampooers  with  their  everlast- 
ing whistles,  nor  in  the  low  wooden  houses  and  open 
shop  fronts ; but  there  were  American  fruits  and  vege- 
tables in  the  provision  stores,  and  foreign  canned  goods, 
and  rows  of  beer  and  wine  bottles,  with  many  other 
evidences  of  our  civilization.  Then  there  were  sights 
more  difficult  to  classify,  like  the  itinerant  seller  of 
sweetmeats,  blowing  a melancholy  tune  on  what  looked 
like  a trumpet,  and  sounded  a good  deal  like  a Scotch 
bagpipe.  Spain  was  again  suggested  by  the  numerous 
packhorses,  with  a basket  on  each  side  laden  with  vege- 
tables ; but  the  peasant  women  who  perched  on  these 
ponies,  sitting  astride  like  men,  appeared  too  Oriental 
even  for  Spain. 

Leaving  the  city  for  the  suburban  fields  and  gardens, 
we  came  across  some  American  cows  seeking  shelter 
from  J apanese  flies  in  a dense  shady  grove , Chinese 
pigs  wallowing  in  Japanese  mud ; German  geese  hap- 
pily navigating  a Japanese  pond.  We  passed  along 
fields  of  American  corn,  acres  of  barley  just  ripening 
(two  months  later  than  in  Tokyo,  so  Mr.  Yabi  said), 
gardens  with  beans,  carrots,  and  cabbages,  and  a vine- 
yard, all  of  them  in  excellent  condition,  eloquent  of 
the  fertile,  swampy  soil  of  this  region.  Proceeding 
toward  Kariki,  about  two  miles  distant,  we  were  re- 
warded by  a splendid  view  of  dark  and  densely  wooded 
mountains  — a Japanese  Black  Forest  suggesting  the 
environs  of  Baden-Baden.  We  took  a swim  in  the 
current  of  the  Ebets  River,  which  gave  me  occasion  to 
note  how  the  Japanese  footgear  hardens  the  feet.  The 


156 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


river  bed  is  covered  with  rocks  and  sharp  rough 
pebbles  which  made  wading  disagreeable  for  me ; but 
my  friend,  and  some  other  Japanese  who  were  in  for 
a bath,  walked  over  this  stony  bottom  as  if  it  had  been 
a smooth  marble  floor.  It  is  odd,  also,  to  see  how  the 
foot  of  a Japanese,  even  when  he  wears  foreign  socks, 
looks  as  if  it  consisted  simply  of  two  big  toes  — the 
effect  of  constantly  grasping  and  holding  the  clogs 
with  their  foot  mittens ; an  art  quite  as  difficult  as 
eating  with  chopsticks,  as  I found  on  trial.  1 could 
not  hold  the  getas,  and  the  low  slippers  supplied  in  the 
hotels  were  almost  equally  difficult  to  keep  on.  What 
tourists  should  do,  is  to  take  along  their  own  slippers. 

Shortly  after  three  o’clock  on  the  following  day  we 
made  our  call  on  Nagayama,  Governor-General  of  Yezo. 
His  house,  so  far  as  we  could  see  from  the  front,  was 
entirely  foreign  in  structure,  and  after  passing  through 
a foreign  door  we  sent  in  our  cards  and  were  ushered 
into  a parlor,  with  a carpet,  comfortable  chairs,  a large 
table  in  the  centre,  and  even  American  pictures  on  the 
walls.  A moment  later  the  Governor-General  entered 
and  welcomed  us  cordially  to  the  Hokkaido.  There 
was  the  usual  exchange  of  international  compliments, 
his  Excellency  remarking  that  all  the  improvements 
made  in  Yezo  were  due  to  Americans  and  American 
influence,  upon  which  I replied,  as  usual,  that  America, 
too,  had  already  learned  much  from  the  Japanese;  and 
that  if  we  could  only  import  their  universal  courtesy, 
kindness  to  men  and  animals,  passion  for  nature,  taste 
in  art,  avoidance  of  vulgar  display  of  wealth,  and  abil- 
ity to  enjoy  life  on  a mere  pittance,  we  should  have 
received  elements  of  civilization  which  would  benefit 
us  more  than  our  factories,  agricultural  implements, 


AMERICAN  SAPPORO 


157 


fruits,  vegetables,  and  clothes  could  ever  benefit  them. 
He  offered  to  do  everything  in  his  power  to  make  our 
stay  in  Sapporo  and  our  trip  into  the  interior  as  pleas- 
ant as  possible,  and  promised  to  put  us  in  charge,  next 
day,  of  Mr.  Hashiguchi,  superintendent  of  the  Agri- 
cultural College  of  Sapporo,  who  would  show  us  all  the 
important  sights. 

Although  the  Governor-General  did  not  speak  any 
European  language,  he  wore  European  clothes,  and 
shook  hands  with  us  in  the  European  fashion.  While 
we  were  conversing,  he  rang  a bell,  and  gave  an  order 
to  a servant,  who  presently  returned  with  several  bot- 
tles of  beer  and  wine,  which  his  Excellency  said  he 
wished  us  to  taste,  as  they  were  all  of  them  products 
of  Yezo.  The  wine,  he  said,  came  from  the  vineyards 
I had  seen,  and  the  beer  from  the  large  German  brewery 
in  Sapporo.  I gave  my  opinion  that  this  beer  was  the 
best  made  in  Japan,  as  indeed  it  was  by  far,  being, 
indeed,  equal  to  any  American  beer,  and  much  superior 
to  that  made  at  Yokohama  and  Tokyo.  When  we  arose 
to  go,  the  Governor-General  accompanied  us  to  show 
us  his  garden  and  orchard,  where  we  found  apple,  nec- 
tarine, and  peach  trees,  laden  with  choice,  healthy  fruit. 
Finally  he  took  us  behind  the  house,  and  enjoyed  my 
surprise  on  finding  myself  suddenly  in  Japan  again; 
for  the  back  side  of  the  house  was  Japanese  in  every 
detail.  u I might  have  expected,”  I said,  “ that  your 
house,  like  everything  in  Sapporo,  would  be  half  Ameri- 
can and  half  Japanese.”  He  smiled,  and  said,  “If  I 
had  received  you  on  this  side  of  the  house,  you  would 
have  sat  on  a mat,  drinking  tea,  instead  of  on  a chair, 
drinking  beer.”  He  then  asked  us  to  call  on  him  again 
in  the  morning,  at  his  office  in  the  City  Hall ; and  we 


158 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


took  our  leave,  with  very  pleasant  impressions  of  this 
official,  who  is  one  of  the  handsomest,  manliest  Japanese 
I have  seen  — a man  in  whose  bearing  military  dignity 
is  very  agreeably  tempered  by  Oriental  courtesy  and 
affability. 

We  had  hardly  got  up,  the  next  morning,  when  a 
servant  brought  us  a large  basket  of  apples,  with  the 
Governor-General’s  compliments.  We  made  a hole  in 
it  at  once,  and  found  them  equal  to  the  best  Oregon 
apples,  entirely  free  from  blemish,  and  far  superior  to 
such  .fruit  as  Hondo  produces.  The  trouble  with  most 
Japanese  fruit  is  that  it  ripens  in  the  rainy  summer 
months,  and  gets  wormy  before  it  is  — according  to  our 
notions  — quite  fit  to  eat,  which  seems  to  be  one  reason 
why  the  Japanese  eat  most  of  their  fruit  unripe.  “We 
try  to  get  ahead  of  the  worms,”  as  Mr.  Yabi  put  it. 
But  these  Sapporo  apples  were  not  only  sound,  but 
unlike  most  foreign  fruits  and  vegetables  in  Japan, 
had  preserved  their  flavor. 

At  nine  o’clock  we  found  our  way  to  the  City  Hall, 
— a fine  large  building,  with  a cupola,  — just  in  time  to 
see  the  Governor-General  ride  up  on  a spirited  horse. 
He  looked  very  handsome  on  his  horse,  and  gave  us  a 
military  salute  in  passing.  We  followed  him  up  to  his 
private  room,  where  he  introduced  us  to  Superintendent 
Hashiguchi,  who  devoted  the  whole  day  to  showing  us 
the  sights  of  Sapporo.  I found  him  to  be  a travelled 
Japanese  gentleman  of  the  finest  type,  as  intelligent  as 
he  was  courteous,  and  speaking  not  only  English,  but 
French  and  German, — these  accomplishments  being,  as 
he  explained,  absolutely  needed  in  a man  in  his  position 
in  so  cosmopolitan  a place  as  Sapporo. 

A carriage  was  waiting  for  us  when  we  came  down, 


AMERICAN  SAPPORO 


159 


and  we  drove  first  to  the  Museum.  It  was  not  open  on 
that  day,  but  the  keeper  had  been  specially  sent  for, 
and  the  alcoholic  atmosphere  was  soon  dispelled  by 
opening  the  windows.  We  saw  here  a fine  collection 
of  Yezo  animals  — fishes  (including  a swordfish  which 
had  sunk  a junk),  butterflies,  bears,  wolves,  etc.,  besides 
minerals  (fine  sulphur  specimens),  and  a valuable  col- 
lection of  Aino  antiquities  upstairs.  What  perhaps  most 
attracted  the  attention  was  the  enormous  stuffed  bears. 
I had  seen  one  of  these  animals  at  the  Ueno  Museum 
in  Tokyo,  which,  without  the  slightest  exaggeration, 
had  a body  as  large  as  an  ox,  and  I had  supposed  it  to 
be  an  exceptional  beast ; but  here  was  another  just  like 
it.  Surely  Russian  Siberia  cannot  produce  larger  bears 
than  Japanese  Siberia.  One  of  the  bears  in  this  museum 
had  killed  ten  horses  before  he  could  be  killed.  He  was 
ambushed  by  soldiers,  who  climbed  on  trees,  and  waited 
for  a chance  to  shoot.  The  largest  of  the  bears  had 
been  killed  near  the  city,  after  gobbling  up  a child. 
The  post-mortem  showed  that  he  must  have  been  very 
hungry.  The  contents  of  his  stomach  are  shown  in  a 
large  glass  jar.  It  is  a ghastly  sight.  The  bear  had 
not  taken  time  to  munch  the  child’s  limbs,  for  the 
hands  and  feet,  with  their  little  fingers  and  toes,  are 
preserved  intact  in  alcohol.  When  the  other  bear, 
which  had  killed  the  ten  horses,  was  dissected,  it  was 
found  that  he  had  been  through  more  than  one  war,  for 
the  soldiers  found  in  his  flesh  several  old  bullets  and 
the  point  of  an  Aino  arrow. 

From  the  Museum  we  drove  to  the  Agricultural  Col- 
lege, where  there  was  a fine  assortment  of  ploughs,  reapers, 
and  other  American  field  implements.  There  was  also 
a large  barn  filled  with  fragrant  hay,  wild  as  well  as 


160 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


cultivated.  Yezo,  with  its  thin  population,  has  what 
Hondo  lacks,  — fine  pasturage  with  excellent  grasses, 
some  local,  others  imported.  Proof  of  this  was  afforded 
by  the  fifty  cows  belonging  to  the  College  : they  looked 
sleek  and  happy,  but  were  kept  busy,  as  to  their  tails, 
by  the  troublesome  flies.  We  were  taken  to  the  dairy 
cellar,  where  we  had  a few  glasses  of  creamy  milk, 
which  is  kept  cool  by  a stream  of  ice-cold  water,  and 
which  was  all  the  more  delicious  as  I had  not  tasted 
any  since  leaving  San  Francisco  ; for  milk,  cheese,  and 
butter  are  things  with  which  the  Japanese  have  only 
recently  become  acquainted.  Mr.  Yabi  said  that  to 
him  milk  was  an  acquired  taste,  and  that  few  Japanese 
liked  it  at  first.  The  man  who  handed  us  the  glasses 
spoke  English  — indeed,  I was  surprised  to  find  how 
many  of  the  young  men  about  the  College  and  the  fac- 
tories spoke  English,  or  some  other  European  language, 
fluently.  The  superintendent  kindly  offered  to  send  us 
a can  of  fresh  butter  in  the  morning,  to  take  along  on 
our  trip  into  the  interior  — a most  welcome  gift. 

In  the  afternoon  Mr.  Hasliiguchi  again  called  for  us 
with  his  carriage  to  show  us  some  of  the  “ American  ” 
factories.  We  passed  along  peat  fields  with  soil  eighteen 
inches  deep,  and  potato  fields  where  this  tuber  was 
growing  in  rank  luxuriance.  We  visited  the  large  flax 
factory,  the  manager  of  which  spoke  French  and  ex- 
plained to  us  the  whole  process  of  manufacture.  In 
the  beet-sugar  factory,  which  we  inspected  next,  the 
manager  explained  matters  in  German.  Japan  is  usu- 
ally considered  a land  of  small  things,  but  these  factories 
were  certainly  as  big  in  their  way  as  the  Yezo  bears  we 
had  just  seen.  There  are  other  big  things  in  Japan, 
such  as  Mount  Fuji,  that  would  be  a lion  even  in  Swit- 


AMERICAN  SAPPORO 


161 


zerlancl  ; man-eating  crabs  measuring  fourteen  feet  from 
claw  to  claw ; the  Kamakura  Buddha,  fifty  feet  high  ; 
pictures  by  Hokusai,  thirty-six  yards  square  ; paper 
lanterns  twenty  feet  high.  There  is  also  a legend  that 
at  one  time  rice  grew  as  high  as  a tree  and  produced 
grains  as  big  as  an  egg  ; and  another  legend  of  a devil 
eight  feet  high,  strong  as  a hundred  men,  with  a face 
black  as  lacquer,  — all. of  which  shows  that  the  Japanese 
do  appreciate  big  things  on  occasion.  Nevertheless, 
these  are  only  the  exceptions  which  prove  Japan  to  be 
the  land  of  miniatures  ; a land  where  men  average 
about  the  same  in  height  as  our  women,  and  the  women 
only  four  feet  five  inches;  where  houses  are  usually 
only  one  story  high  and  large  enough  for  one  family; 
where  chickens  and  their  eggs  are  as  small  as  our  pigeons 
and  pigeon  eggs  ; where  wine  and  tea  cups  and  tobacco 
pipes  seem  to  have  been  made  for  dolls  ; where  carriages 
are  kurumas,  and  horses  men;  where  life  in  general  is 
seen  as  through  an  inverted  opera  glass. 

Once  more  we  met  Mr.  Hashiguchi,  in  the  evening, 
at  the  foreign  hotel,  where  he  had  invited  us  to  dine 
with  him.  He  asked  many  questions  about  American 
methods  of  colonizing  and  booming,  and  about  our 
abandoned  farms,  giving  us  much  valuable  informa- 
tion in  turn.  The  dinner  was  so  good  that  I almost 
regretted  not  having  put  up  at  this  hotel.  However,  I 
had  some  novel  experiences  at  the  native  inn  we  had 
stopped  at.  As  usual,  I had  been  asked  there  whether  I 
would  have  a chair  and  a table,  and  whether  I could  use 
chopsticks.  I flattered  myself  that  I had  made  consid- 
erable progress  in  that  art  since  that  first  dinner  in 
Tokyd,  and  was,  therefore,  quite  disgusted  when  the 
black-eyed  musume  kneeling  opposite  made  the  same 


162 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


remark  T had  heard  on  that  occasion,  — that  I plied  my 
chopsticks  “just  like  a baby.”  And  I had  been  so 
anxious  to  make  a good  impression  on  her,  for  she  was 
very  pretty.  However,  I had,  ere  that,  discovered  a 
secret  which  I am  willing  to  impart  to  the  reader.  If 
you  wish  to  amuse  and  please  a tea  girl,  do  not  sit 
and  stare  at  her  mutely,  but  if  you  don’t  know  her 
language  talk  English  at  her  as  fast  as  you  can.  That 
will  cause  no  end  of  merriment  with  peals  of  laughter, 
especially  if  you  speak  with  dramatic  sincerity  and 
gestures,  as  if  you  expected  her  to  understand  you. 

When  I asked  for  my  bath  in  the  morning,  the  girl 
guided  me  to  the  room  and  left.  Just  as  I was  ready 
to  get  into  the  tub,  she  came  back  to  ask  if  the  water 
was  not  too  hot  for  me.  I put  in  my  hand,  and  dis- 
covered that  it  was,  — very  much  so,  — so  she  ran  away 
and  sent  a man  who  poured  in  a few  buckets  of  cold 
water.  But  a glance  at  the  bath  showed  me  that  I 
could  not  use  it  at  all.  It  had  evidently,  more  Japanico, 
done  service  for  a number  of  bathers  on  the  previous 
evening,  and  had  not  been  renewed.  I made  the  man 
dash  a few  buckets  of  cold  water  over  me,  and  after 
donning  my  kimono,  went  back  to  my  room,  where 
Mr.  Yabi  explained  the  condition  of  the  bath  by  saying 
that  it  was  not  customary  at  Japanese  inns  to  bathe  in 
the  morning.  Thereafter  I took  care  to  do  as  the 
Romans  do,  late  in  the  afternoon. 

As  was  to  be  expected,  the  sleeping  arrangements 
were  not  much  better  than  the  bath.  At  Sendai  I had 
two  sheets,  at  Hakodate  one,  at  Sapporo  none,  and  I 
began  to  wonder  what  would  happen  next.  It  was 
not  pleasant  to  lie  thus  between  two  quilts  that  had  no 
washable  covers,  and  had  been  used  by  Tom,  Dick,  and 


AMERICAN  SAPPORO 


163 


Harry,  but  there  was  no  help  for  it.  These  quilts, 
moreover,  were  stiffer  and  heavier  than  horse  blankets, 
and  altogether  too  warm  for  summer  nights.  In  our 
beds  we  can  use  a sheet  alone  for  a cover,  or  with  one 
blanket,  or  with  more,  but  in  Japan  it  is  either  smother 
or  freeze.  Another  absurd  bedroom  arrangement  is  the 
night  light ; formerly  a candle  or  a wick  in  oil,  now  a 
petroleum  light  on  a pedestal,  looking  like  a metronome. 
These  lamps  are  left  burning  all  night,  turned  down 
low  enough  to  make  a stench,  and  give  one  a head- 
ache next  morning.  Mr.  Yabi  could  give  me  no  ex- 
planation of  this  custom,  and,  as  a matter  of  course, 
after  one  or  two  experiences,  I always  put  out  the  light 
after  retiring.  These  lamps  are  not  only  very  injurious 
to  the  health  of  the  natives,  but  in  case  of  earthquakes 
they  are  upturned,  and  cause  many  of  the  disastrous  and 
fatal  fires  which  always  accompany  those  catastrophes. 

For  our  toilet  we  usually  had  the  water  brought  into 
our  room,  but  Japanese  inns  are  supplied  with  wash- 
stands  and  copper  basins.  You  must,  however,  furnish 
your  own  towel,  unless  you  are  satisfied  with  one  of  the 
small  and  always  damp  washrags  that  are  usually  sup- 
plied. Of  their  teeth  the  Japanese  appear  to  take 
good  care,  as  they  never  neglect  to  clean  them  with 
small  brushes  with  few  bristles,  but  handles  a foot  in 
length,  six  of  which,  I was  told,  cost  about  a cent. 
Why  the  handles  should  be  so  long  I do  not  know, 
unless  it  is  to  enable  them  to  brush  the  throat  too.  At 
any  rate,  there  is  an  amount  of  hemming  and  retching 
as  if  they  were  crossing  the  English  Channel.  Some 
brush  their  teeth  dry,  others  use  salt,  which  is  provided 
in  a saucer. 

At  this  inn  Mr.  Yabi  wrote  another  letter  about  our 


164 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


trip  for  the  Mainichi  Shimbun , while  I was  writing  mine 
for  a syndicate  of  my  own,  including  eight  American 
Sunday  papers.  Nothing  could  have  been  more  differ- 
ent than  our  methods.  The  New  York  journalist  sent 
for  a table  and  chair,  took  eight  sheets  of  tissue  paper  at 
a time,  with  a sheet  of  duplicating  carbon  paper  between 
every  two  of  them,  and  by  means  of  a hard  pencil 
wrote  the  eight  copies  of  his  letter  all  at  once.  The 
Tokyo  journalist,  per  contra , wrote  his  letter  on  a little 
table  about  a foot  high,  before  which  he  squatted  on  a 
mat,  with  one  knee  up  in  the  air.  His  manuscript 
consisted  of  a continuous  roll  of  paper  (like  a small 
imitation  of  the  mile-long  rolls  which  feed  our  news- 
paper presses),  and  he  wrote,  of  course,  downwards 
and  from  right  to  left,  unrolling  his  paper  as  he  needed 
it,  and  finally  sending  it  off  all  in  one  piece,  a yard  or 
two  long,  for  the  copy-cutter  to  dish  up  to  the  com- 
positors in  as  long  or  short  clippings  as  he  chose. 
Mr.  Yabi’s  hand  never  touched  the  paper  in  writing, 
although,  unlike  most  Japanese  (who  write  with  a 
small  brush),  he  made  use  of  pen  and  ink,  — a trick,  he 
said,  which  few  of  his  countrymen  had  learned  yet. 

A Japanese  written  page  is  as  different  from  a 
printed  page  as  an  English  book  is  from  a page  of 
our  manuscript.  The  printed  Japanese  resembles  the 
Chinese,  but  of  a Japanese  manuscript  you  can  get  a 
fair  idea  by  taking  a page  of  your  own  writing,  hold- 
ing it  up  to  the  light,  with  the  written  side  facing  the 
light,  and  in  such  a way  that  the  lines  run  down 
instead  of  horizontally.  The  first  time  I saw  Mr. 
Yabi’s  handwriting  I told  him  that  it  looked  to  my 
Occidental  eyes  as  if  a Buddhist  rooster  had  got  his 
feet  in  an  inkstand  and  then  tried  to  get  at  a worm 


AMERICAN  SAPPORO 


165 


under  the  paper,  at  which  archaic  joke  he  was  polite 
enough  to  laugh  good-naturedly ; but  after  I had  dis- 
covered the  resemblance  of  my  inverted  manuscript  to 
his,  I came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was,  after  all,  only 
a question  between  horizontal  and  vertical.  I must 
add,  however,  that  Mr.  Yabi  admitted  that  he  was 
using  our  pen  and  ink  ( penu  and  inlcu , in  Japanese) 
because  he  could  write  faster  with  it  than  with  a brush, 
and  that  he  might  save  still  more  time  by  using  Eng- 
lish letters  in  place  of  the  Japanese  script. 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


A GREEK  IDYL IN  A JAPANESE  COAL  MINE CONVICTS 

RIDE  ON  A COAL  TRAIN A POND  AND  A BATHING  SCENE 

CAUGHT  IN  THE  RAIN HORSES  AND  GUIDES TREAT- 
ING THE  AINOS BEAR  FIGHTS  AND  POISONED  ARROWS 

AMERICAN  CLEARINGS JAPANESE  PIONEERS FOREST 

ENCHANTMENT NIGHTINGALES  AND  FLOWERS POLITE 

CONVICTS A YEZO  SONG — CENTRE  OF  THE  ISLAND 

MORE  AINOS BACK  TO  SAPPORO NEWSPAPERS  AND 

MAGAZINES 

Both  the  Governor-General  ancl  Superintendent  Ha- 
shiguchi  agreed,  that  if  we  had  to  choose  between  mak- 
ing the  circuit  of  Volcano  Bay  and  seeing  the  interior 
of  Yezo,  the  latter  would  be  preferable  for  our  purposes. 
The  Volcano  Bay  route  presents  many  fine  views  of 
mountains  and  coast,  but  it  has  been  fully  described  by 
Miss  Bird  and  others,  whereas  the  road  into  the  interior, 
as  far  as  Kamikawa,  — which  is  almost  the  exact  centre 
of  the  island,  — had  been  opened  only  a short  time,  and 
seen  by  only  a few  foreigners,  so  that  it  would  he  virgin 
soil.  On  the  way  there  we  would  be  able  to  utilize 
about  twenty  miles  of  the  same  railway  that  had  brought 
us  from  Otaru,  which  would  take  us  as  far  as  Poronai, 
the  coal  mines  of  which  would  deserve  a visit.  From 
there  the  rest  of  the  trip  would  be  on  horseback. 

In  the  morningf  Mr.  Hasliiguchi  met  us  once  more  at 

o o 

166 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


167 


the  station,  and  brought  us  a letter  recommending  us 
to  the  special  care  of  mayors,  mine  and  prison  officials, 
and  innkeepers,  besides  a few  books  and  circulars  on 
Hokkaido,  which  I presented  to  Mr.  Yabi,  who  sub- 
sequently gave  me  a verbal  review  of  them.  We  also 
caught  sight  once  more  of  the  Governor-General,  at  the 
head  of  a band  of  soldiers ; he  returned  our  greeting 
with  the  foreign  military  salute.  After  the  train  had 
started,  a man  (foreigner)  introduced  himself  to  us  as 
the  builder  of  the  road  we  were  on.  He  had  seen  sev- 
eral notices  about  us  in  Yezo  papers,  and  was  anxious 
that  we  should  have  a good  time.  He  was  then,  he 
said,  busy  building  a neAv  railroad  northward,  which 
was  later  on  to  be  continued  southward  to  Mororan,  to 
form  Yezo’s  trunk  line.  He  told  us  of  several  places 
where  we  could  find  good  fishing. 

The  scenery  we  passed  through  on  the  way  to  Poronai 
gave  a foretaste  of  the  forest  that  was  to  be  our  home 
for  the  rest  of  the  week  — a dense  jungle,  varied  now 
and  then  by  a swamp  or  an  open  stretch.  In  one  of 
these  open  spaces  a “living  picture”  suddenly  burst 
upon  the  view,  that  made  me  rub  my  eyes,  and  wonder 
if  I wasn’t  asleep,  dreaming  of  Diana  and  the  ancient 
Greeks.  A short  distance  from  the  road,  in  the  bend 
of  a small  stream,  a dozen  women  and  girls  were  bath- 
ing unabashed,  in  beauty  unadorned.  Fortunately  I 
was  not,  like  Actseon,  changed  into  a stag  for  beholding 
this  idyllic  spectacle. 

It  did  not  take  us  long  to  reach  the  coal  region,  which 
is  the  most  important  in  Japan.  Coal  is  the  principal 
mineral  product  of  the  country,  and,  oddly  enough,  the 
chief  deposits  are  near  the  extreme  south,  at  Nagasaki, 
and  near  the  extreme  north,  in  Yezo,  the  latter  being 


168 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


by  far  the  largest.  The  American  engineers  who  first 
surveyed  the  coal  fields  of  Yezo  for  the  government, 
estimated  that  they  contained  about  150,000,000,000 
tons,  or  two-thirds  as  much  as  the  coal  fields  of  Great 
Britain  ; and  these  estimates,  according  to  a recent  Eng- 
lish consular  report,  have  been  found  rather  under  than 
above  the  truth.  Nine-tenths  of  this  coal  is  found  in 
the  Ishikari  valley,  in  which  is  situated  Poronai,  where 
we  now  found  ourselves. 

Presenting  our  card  from  Mr.  Hashiguchi  to  the 
superintendent  of  the  mines,  that  gentleman,  who 
spoke  English  fluently,  kindly  left  his  work  to  show 
us  the  coal  veins  personally.  And  what  do  you  think 
was  the  first  thing  he  told  us  ? Any  man  in  his  senses 
would  suppose  that  in  order  to  get  at  coal,  you  must 
dig  down  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  even  in  Japan. 
Not  so  here.  Japan  remains  consistently  topsy-turvy. 
At  the  Poronai  mines  the  veins  of  coal  are  followed 
upwards  into  the  mountain.  Belonging  to  a compara- 
tively recent  geological  era,  Japanese  coal  is  nearer  the 
surface  than  in  other  countries ; and  a lucky  circum- 
stance this  is,  for  it  does  away  with  the  necessity  for 
costly  timbering  and  complicated  ventilating  apparatus. 

Our  Prude  first  took  us  to  a room  where  coarse  Aino 

o 

suits  were  put  over  us  to  protect  our  coats.  Then, 
instead  of  being  lowered  in  buckets,  we  simply  walked 
along  a level  tunnel,  dug  about  half  a mile  into  the 
mountain.  Having  reached  the  veins,  we  began  to 
clamber  upwards,  holding  on  to  the  primitive  timber- 
ing — exciting  work,  especially  if  you  carry  your  own 
lamp  in  one  hand,  and  have  to  look  out  not  to  soil  your 
only  pair  of  white  flannel  trousers.  At  last  we  reached 
the  temporary  end  — a solid  wall  of  black  coal,  almost 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


169 


five  feet  high,  and  containing,  so  we  were  told,  only 
one-tenth  of  impure  matter  in  the  whole  mass.  The 
three  local  mines  open  at  the  time  were  worked  by 
convicts  — dangerous  criminals  from  all  parts  of  Japan, 
about  1100  in  number,  with  some  50  soldiers  and 
policemen  to  guard  them.  We  met  several  detach- 
ments, under  guard.  They  seemed  less  brutal  in  ap- 
pearance than  criminals  of  their  class  elsewhere.  They 
get  eleven  cents  a day,  of  which  eight  goes  to  the 
prison  for  their  food,  leaving  three  for  clothing  and 
luxuries. 

When  we  were  ready  to  return  to  Ichikichiri  (si£ 
venia  verb  o'),  where  we  were  to  pass  the  night,  we 
found  that  there  was  to  be  no  passenger  train  for 
several  hours ; but  we  were  informed  that  we  were  wel- 
come to  avail  ourselves  of  the  next  coal  train.  I sup- 
posed that  a coal-train  ticket  would  be  third  class,  if 
not  fourth,  but  the  station  agent,  thinking,  perhaps, 
that  it  would  be  an  insult  to  offer  such  distinguished 
visitors  anything  but  the  best,  made  us  pay  for  first- 
class  tickets!  Noblesse  oblige  — we  took  them.  How- 
ever, though  we  did  have  to  sit  on  a load  of  coal,  we 
were  supplied  with  clean  new  mats*  by  way  of  compen- 
sation. I must  add  that  no  American  boys  and  girls 
ever  enjoyed  a hay  ride  more  than  we  did  that  coal 
ride.  I think  that  the  ideal  way  to  see  such  incompar- 
able mountain  scenery  as  that  of  the  Canadian  Pacific 
Railway  would  be  on  the  top  of  coal  cars  — if  there 
were  any  — with  free  access  to  every  breeze,  and  noth- 
ing to  obstruct  the  view. 

I must  not  omit  to  note  an  amusing  scene  at  the 
Poronai  station,  while  we  were  waiting  for  the  coal 
train.  I watched  a native  boy  who  was  busy  catching 


1T0 


LOTOS-TIME  IX  JAPAN 


the  large  flies  that  buzzed  about  the  room.  The  bright 
fellow  had  discovered,  that  foreign  window  panes  are  a 
good  thing  to  corner  flies  on.  We  asked  him  what  he 
intended  to  do  with  the  flies,  and  he  said  he  would  take 
them  home  to  feed  to  his  chickens. 

At  Icliikicliiri  we  found  an  excellent  little  tea  house, 
with  a fine  view  of  a green  mountain  range.  But 
alas ! there  was  no  smiling  tea  maiden  to  welcome  us. 
Women  must  be  scarce  at  this  place.  All  our  attendants 
were  boys  and  men,  — a very  exceptional  state  of  affairs. 
Nevertheless,  we  had  two  good  meals  here,  our  appetites 
being  too  good  to  be  spoiled  by  two  pictures  on  the  wall 
intended  to  represent  the  Emperor  and  the  Empress. 
They  were  “foreign”  chromos  of  the  most  atrocious 
kind,  framed  in  wood,  and  marked  “Number  3.”  No 
doubt  the  Japanese  think  we  like  such  pictures,  and 
wonder  why.  We  occupied  a back  room,  of  course, 
whence  we  could  see  the  mountains,  and,  as  I lay  lazily 
on  the  mats,  two  genre  pictures  met  my  gaze.  To  the 
right,  there  was  a pond  occupied  by  some  noisy  frogs. 
Presently  these  were  silenced  by  the  arrival  of  several 
quacking  ducks.  But  these,  too,  in  turn,  had  to  yield 
to  superior  size,  for  a large  dog  came  along,  and  ousted 
them,  to  take  his  bath.  More  Japanesy  was  another 
bathing  scene  to  the  left.  I11  the  back  yard  of  our 
neighbor’s  house  there  was  a bath  tub,  into  which  a 
woman  poured  several  buckets  of  steaming  water.  She 
then  disappeared,  and  presently  returned  naked,  with  a 
ditto  baby,  which  she  proceeded  to  bathe.  Then  she 
took  a dip  herself ; and,  after  she  had  returned  into  the 
house,  her  place  was  taken  by  a boy,  followed  by  two 
grown  girls,  the  last  to  go  in  being  probably  the  servant 
girl,  judging  by  her  more  muscular  build. 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


171 


When  we  had  our  first  interview  with  the  Governor- 
General,  he  promised,  among  other  things,  to  see  to  it 
that  we  should  be  supplied  with  good  horses,  and 
especially  with  European  saddles  (which  are  difficult 
to  obtain),  for  our  ride  into  the  forest.  He  kept  his 
promise,  for  when  we  called  on  the  mayor  of  Ichiki- 
chiri,  in  accordance  with  Mr.  Hasliiguchi’s  directions, 
we  found  that  he  knew  of  our  coming,  and  had  already 
provided  for  us.  The  horses,  together  with  a mounted 
guide,  appeared  at  our  inn  in  time  for  an  early  start  the 
next  morning.  Our  baggage  consisted  of  two  valises, 
which  the  guide  tied  together  with  a rope,  and  slung 
over  his  horse’s  sides,  whereupon  he  perched  on  top. 
The  excellent  road  was  wide  enough  for  a carriage,  and 
we  congratulated  ourselves  on  seeing  a cloudy  sky, 
which  promised  a cool  ride ; but,  before  long,  the 
clouds  opened  their  pores  and  gave  us  a copious,  pro- 
longed shower  bath.  We  had  foolishly  left  our  oil- 
paper rain  coats  behind,  as  Mr.  Yabi  thought  they 
would  be  an  impediment,  and  our  umbrellas  were  of 
little  use  on  horseback  in  a violent,  fickle  storm  that 
drove  the  rain  in  upon  us  from  all  sides.  At  the  first 
wayside  inn  our  guide  stopped,  and  got  us  two  red 
blankets.  Some  of  the  natives  we  passed  were  also 
wrapped  in  blankets,  while  some  had  native  or  foreign 
umbrellas.  Others  were  wrapped  in  oiled  paper,  a few 
had  on  the  regular  rain  coats  made  of  grass,  and,  to  cap 
the  climax,  and  provide  still  further  variety,  there  were 
some  who  had  simply  a mat  or  two  suspended  from  the 
head  or  shoulders. 

If  our  guide  had  asked  us  how  we  wished  to  be  con- 
ducted, I should  have  replied  as  Archelaus  did  two 
thousand  years  ago,  when  his  prating  barber  asked  him 


172 


LOTOS-TIME  IN'  JAPAN 


how  he  would  have  his  hair  trimmed — “In  silence.” 
I have  read  somewhere  that  Ainos  make  better  guides 
than  the  Japanese,  because  they  are  silent,  while  the 
Japanese  are  forever  singing.  Our  guide  was  no  excep- 
tion ; lie  sang  without  a pause  for  about  five  hours,  and 
the  expression  of  his  song,  amid  all  its  Oriental  dis- 
guises, was  indubitably  joyous,  especially  after  he  had 
secured  those  blankets  for  us.  Subsequently  we  dis- 
covered the  cause  of  his  joy  : he  had  paid  only  ten 
cents  for  the  use  of  those  blankets,  and  had  charged  us 
forty  I I must  not  exaggerate,  however,  about  the 
guide’s  continuous  singing  ; it  was  interrupted,  now 
and  then,  by  an  outburst  of  anger  over  his  horse,  who 
always  “wanted  to  go  home.” 

About  noon  we  came  across  another  wayside  inn, 
at  which  we  stopped  for  lunch ; that  is,  we  ordered 
some  tea  and  rice,  and  supplemented  them  with  our 
own  corned  beef,  soda  crackers,  and  delicious  fresh 
butter  from  the  Sapporo  college  creamery.  The  sole 
occupants  of  the  inn  seemed  to  be  a man  and  his  wife 
and  a foreign  dog.  Our  dogs,  of  various  breeds,  are 
now  quite  common  among  the  Japanese,  who  call  them, 
as  my  friend  informed  me,  kami  [komee],  Avhich  they 
originally  supposed  to  he  their  name,  because  they 
always  heard  the  English  and  Americans  at  Yokohama 
call  their  dogs  “come  ’ere.”  I made  an  interesting 
experiment  with  this  dog  by  offering  him  a slice  of 
corned  beef.  He  smelt  of  it  long  and  suspiciously, 
then  suddenly  he  pricked  up  his  ears  in  a knowing 
way,  swallowed  the  meat  eagerly,  and  “wanted  more.” 
What  made  him  prick  up  his  ears  and  change  his  mind 
so  suddenly?  He  could  have  never  in  his  life  tasted 
beef,  for  it  is  unknown  in  the  Yezo  wilds.  Was  it  a 


RAIN  COATS 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


1T3 


sudden  Platonic  reminiscence  of  a previous  state  of 
existence  in  a foreign  dog’s  paradise  where  beef  and 
mutton  bones  abound  ? 

At  this  inn  we  changed  horses  and  guides.  Unfor- 
tunately our  first  guide  took  along  the  blankets,  and 
there  was  a difficulty  about  getting  others,  for  the  inn- 
keeper said  he  had  none.  Mr.  Yabe  thereupon  asked 
me  for  the  card  which  Mr.  Hashiguchi  had  given  us, 
which  he  requested  the  innkeeper  to  take  to  some 
soldiers  who  were  encamped  not  far  away,  and  ask  if 
we  could  not  borrow  some  blankets  from  them.  At 
sight  of  the  superintendent’s  card,  our  host’s  attitude 
changed  immediately  ; hurrying  into  an  adjoining 
room,  he  returned  in  a moment  with  two  beautiful  new 
blankets!  Thus,  in  every  detail  of  our  Yezo  tour,  did 
we  have  occasion  to  bless  the  Chief  Justice  at  Tokyo 
for  that  letter  to  the  Governor-General. 

The  road  was  beautifully  lined  with  morning  glories ; 
it  had  been  a morning  for  them  to  glory  in, — they 
liked  the  rain  better  than  we  did.  However,  the  ill  wind 
blew  us  this  good,  that  we  were  not  molested  by  flies, 
which  are  said  to  be  troublesome  here  to  man  and  beast. 
In  the  dismal  downpour,  the  luxuriant,  green  forest 
jungle  made  a dreary  impression  on  the  senses.  My 
new  pony  was  a good  traveller,  but  shied  at  everything; 
especially  if  I opened  my  umbrella  or  leaned  over  to 
adjust  my  blanket.  Raindrops  suddenly  falling  on  him 
from  a wind-shaken  tree,  made  him  jump  aside  several 
feet ; and  when  I kept  my  umbrella  open,  he  fancied 
that  the  drippings  from  it  on  his  haunches  were  flies, 
and  tried  to  brush  them  away.  His  tail  being  covered 
with  mud,  and  long  enough  to  slap  my  clothes,  this 
imaginary  fly -brushing  did  not  improve  my  appearance. 


174 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


At  an  early  hour  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  a river 
which  we  crossed  on  a primitive  rope  ferry,  the  boat- 
man standing  up  and,  after  pushing  us  into  the  current, 
holding  on  to  the  rope  and  pulling  us  over.  On  the 
other  side  was  the  village  of  Takigawo,  where  I was 
surprised  to  find  planted  in  the  midst  of  a flower  garden 
a really  comfortable  and  tasteful  tea  house,  one  of  the 
best  kept  I had  yet  found  in  Japan.  The  manager, 
G.  Satomi,  proved  to  be  a very  intelligent  man,  who 
most  courteously  showed  us  the  sights  of  the  village, 
and  gave  us  much  interesting  information.  Seeing  that 
I was  anxious  to  try  fishing  in  Japanese  water,  he  sup- 
plied us  with  tackle  and  bait,  and  told  us  where  to  go. 
We  had  no  special  luck,  but  brought  back  enough  to 
help  out  our  supper.  Mr.  Satomi  said  that  the  best 
fishermen  were  the  Ainos,  which  led  me  to  remark  that 
I had  been  disappointed  so  far  in  my  desire  to  come 
across  those  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  Japan,  the  only 
ones  I had  seen  having  been  a family  on  the  steamer 
which  brought  us  to  Hakodate.  Having  seen  many 
pictures  of  them,  I recognized  these  at  a glance  by  their 
color,  foreheads,  eyes,  noses,  and  beards,  all  of  which 
resemble  those  of  Europeans  much  more  than  the 
corresponding  Japanese  features.  At  Hakodate  and 
Sapporo  I had  kept  a sharp  lookout  for  Ainos,  but  had 
not  seen  a single  one. 

“ Then  you  have  come  to  the  right  place,”  said  Mr. 
Satomi.  “ There  is  a small  colony  of  them  here,  and 
three  men  are  in  a house  near  by  at  this  moment.  If 
you  will  follow  me,  I will  show  them  to  you.” 

He  preceded  me  to  a hut  resembling  the  simple 
Indian  habitations  in  Alaska,  but  apparently  not  a 
regular  Aino  hut.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  there  was 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


175 


a fireplace  with  a smoke  hole  above,  around  which  a 
few  rows  of  salmon  were  hanging  to  be  cured.  We 
found  the  three  Ainos  squatting  in  a corner  around  an 
enormous  kettle  full  of  rice,  which  they  were  transfer- 
ring with  chopsticks  to  three  hungry  mouths.  Their 
coal-black  hair  and  beards  were  long  and  thick,  their 
limbs  covered  with  long  hairs  almost  like  a fur,  and 
their  complexion  several  shades  darker  than  that  of 
the  Japanese.  Their  remarkably  high  foreheads  and 
dense  long  beards  gave  them  an  appearance  of  intel- 
ligence which  was  belied  by  their  actions  and  their 
expression.  They  looked  as  gloomy  as  if  they  were  to 
be  hanged  after  finishing  their  rice.  Knowing  how 
fond  they  were  of  rice  wine,  I thought  I would  try  to 
cheer  them  up  a little  by  treating  them  to  a bottle. 
Mr.  Satomi  explained  my  intentions  to  them,  but  they 
shook  their  heads  sadly.  This  was  indeed  a surprise, 
for  I had  read  in  several  books  that  the  Ainos  not  only 
consider  intoxication  the  highest  of  all  enjoyments  and 
spend  all  their  gains  on  it,  but  even  look  on  sak6 
drinking  as  the  most  proper  and  devout  way  of  wor- 
shipping the  gods.  A few  questions  put  to  them 
revealed  the  true  inwardness  of  their  unexpected  absti- 
nence. They  had  been  hired  to  work  on  the  road,  and 
the  contractor,  familiar  with  Aino  habits,  had  made 
them  promise  not  to  touch  rice  wine.  After  a while  we 
succeeded  in  convincing  them  that  our  intentions  were 
honorable,  and  they  allowed  Mr.  Satomi  to  get  a bottle. 
Being  assured  once  more  that  it  was  “ my  treat,”  the 
three  long-bearded  men  bowed  their  heads  very  low, 
waved  their  mustache  lifters  and  smiled  gratefully  at  me 
before  they  filled  their  cups  and  eagerly  emptied  them. 

On  the  way  back  to  the  inn  we  stopped  at  a store, 


176 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


wherein  Mr.  Satomi  showed  us  some  large  round  cakes 
which  he  said  were  made  of  a powdered  root.  From 
their  hardness  I judged  that  they  would  make  good 
building  material,  but  Mr.  Satomi  said  that  this  was  the 
“bread”  of  the  Ainos.  They  have  learned  from  the 
Japanese  to  eat  rice,  but  it  is  said  that  they  prefer 
the  millet  which  their  women  raise  in  their  gardens. 
Formerly,  when  deer  and  bear  were  more  abundant, 
their  two  principal  meals,  morning  and  evening,  con- 
sisted of  venison  or  bear  soup,  seasoned  with  various 
vegetables,  herbs,  and  roots,  even  the  poetic  but  tough 
mistletoe  being  condemned  to  form  an  ingredient  in 
this  pot-au-feu.  They  eat  the  berries  of  the  wild  roses 
that  abound  along  the  coast,  and  in  the  autumn  wild 
grapes  are  among  their  dainties.  It  is  said  that  aspara- 
gus grows  wild  in  Yezo,  and  I myself  saw  many  acres 
of  wild  rhubarb.  The  most  substantial  part  of  the 
Ainos’  meal  consists  of  salmon  or  other  fish,  in  the 
capture  of  which,  with  nets,  spears,  hook  and  line,  and 
other  ways,  they  show  much  ingenuity,  as  might  be 
expected  in  a country  where  there  is  a river  or  moun- 
tain current  every  few  miles.  Herring,  cod,  mackerel, 
sardines,  smelt,  eels,  flounders,  halibut,  and  many  other 
food  fish  abound  in  Ainoland.  The  octopus  also  is 
eaten,  clams  and  crabs  are  not  scarce,  and  oysters  are 
so  abundant  that  canneries  have  been  established.  One 
species  of  oyster  reaches  dimensions  which  make  our 
Saddlerocks  hide  their  diminished  heads  in  shame. 
What  would  Thackeray  have  said  to  an  oyster  on  the 
half  shell  measuring  eighteen  inches  ? 

Mr.  Satomi  kindly  made  me  a present  of  some  Aino 
things,  including  specimens  of  the  bark  which  they  use 
for  torches,  and  one  of  the  arrowheads  with  which  they 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


ITT 


kill  bears.  These  arrowheads  seemed  rather  small  and 
frail  for  such  tough  beasts,  but  they  are  only  intended 
to  wound,  the  killing  process  being  completed  by  an 
aconite  poison  into  which  they  are  dipped.  Formerly 
bear  hunting  in  the  Yezo  forests  gained  an  added  zest 
of  danger  from  the  custom  of  setting  traps  so  arranged 
that  a bear  on  entering  was  forthwith  transfixed  by  a 
poisoned  arrow.  To  warn  hunters,  large  wooden  signs 
were  put  up  near  the  traps,  in  the  shape  of  the  letter 
T.  Even  then  accidents  occurred,  and  some  years  ago 
the  traps  were  forbidden  in  many  localities. 

Mr.  Blakiston  tells  us  that, 

“ notwithstanding  bears  are  so  numerous  in  Yezo,  the  denseness 
of  the  underbrush  and  bamboo  scrub  is  such  that  they  are  seldom 
seen,  though  their  presence  is  not  unfrequently  made  known  by  a 
rustling  among  the  bushes,  or  the  starting  of  horses  as  the  less- 
frequented  trails  are  followed.  Japanese  travellers  usually  keep 
up  a song  in  such  places,  in  order  to  scare  the  beasts  away,  for  it  is 
very  awkward  to  come  suddenly  upon  them,  as  they  might,  in  such 
cases,  prove  dangerous.” 

Was  that  the  reason  why  our  guide  had  sung  five 
hours  that  morning  — as  a musical  charm  to  soothe  the 
savage  bear  ? At  any  rate,  the  hope  of  coming  across 
a Siberian  monster  gave  an  added  interest  to  our  inva- 
sion of  the  primeval  forest. 

In  the  room  which  Mr.  Satomi  had  assigned  to  us, 
there  was  spread  over  the  mats  the  most  superb  bear- 
skin that  I have  ever  seen.  Its  body  was  a brownish 
black,  but  the  head  was  of  the  purest  gold  — almost 
like  a lion’s  mane — a very  rare  color  even  in  Yezo, 
and  the  fur  was  everywhere  so  thick  that  I decided  to 
sleep  on  the  skin,  which,  I found,  made  a softer  bed 
than  two  or  three  Japanese  wadded  quilts.  I made  up 


N 


178 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


my  mind  that  I must  have  that  skin.  Ordinary  pelts, 
1 knew,  could  be  bought  at  Hakodate  for  #10  and  less, 
so  I offered  Mr.  Satomi  #20  for  his.  He  said  it  was 
worth  #22,  but  that  he  did  not  wish  to  part  with  it,  as 
it  was  an  heirloom.  I have  since  ascertained  that  in 
New  York  such  a skin  would  be  cheap  at  #150.  Had  1 
offered  my  host  #25  or  #30,  he  would  have  probably 
succumbed.  I have  since  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
ignorance  is  not  always  bliss. 

At  eight  o’clock  next  morning  we  were  again  in  the 
saddle.  We  had  left  Tokyo  on  July  22,  arrived  at 
Hakodate  on  the  24tli,  at  Sapporo  on  the  27th,  and 
to-day  was  the  1st  of  August.  Had  we  remained  in 
Tokyo,  we  should  have  been  sweltering  in  the  heat; 
here  we  were  almost  too  cool  — glad  to  warm  our  hands 
at  the  glowing  charcoal  brazier  before  eating  our  break- 
fast. More  experiences  with  Yezo  horses  were  in  store 
for  us.  Our  useless  guide  rode  far  ahead,  and  was  out 
of  sight  and  hearing  on  the  only  occasion  when  I 
needed  his  services.  My  pony  suddenly  refused  to  go 
on,  and  no  persuasion,  moral  or  physical,  could  make  him 
budge  for  fully  five  minutes.  Then  he  suddenly  de- 
cided he  would  go  on  a little  longer.  His  next  caper 
was  even  more  annoying.  Discovering  some  dry  mud 
on  the  flap  of  my  coat,  I struck  it  with  my  flat  hand  to 
brush  it  off.  There  must  have  been  some  electric  con- 
nection between  that  coat-tail  and  the  horse’s  bump  of 
shyness,  for  the  very  instant  that  I struck  it,  I found 
myself  sprawling  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  fortunately 
with  the  bridle  still  in  my  hands.  Then  he  behaved 
for  a while,  but  every  time  we  passed  a tea  house  or  a 
group  of  huts,  he  wanted  to  stop.  Once  he  made  up 
his  mind  he  would  stop  anyhow.  A stubborn  “ neigh  ” 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


179 


was  his  only  answer  to  all  requests  to  move  on.  I had 
no  whip,  but  I had  a beautiful  new  silk  umbrella,  with 
a fine  natural-wood  handle,  which  I had  bought  in 
Tokyo.  This  I plied  on  his  back  and  head  till  it 
broke  in  two,  which  made  me  so  angry  that  I believe 
I should  have  been  pleased  to  see  that  horse  in  a 
Spanish  bull  ring,  doomed  to  have  his  belly  ripped 
open.  I might  have  remained  before  that  tea  house 
all  day,  had  not  a Japanese  peasant  taken  pity  on  me. 
He  seized  a large  stick  and  drummed  on  the  pony’s 
haunches  till  it  set  off  at  a trot.  Thereafter  we  for- 
bade the  guide  to  go  out  of  sight  again.  He,  too,  had 
his  troubles,  as  his  horse  was  forever  trying  to  turn 
round,  and  it  was  all  he  could  do  to  steer  it  ahead. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  village  where  we  had  spent 
the  night,  I had  a sensation  of  having  been  suddenly 
dropped  into  some  Western  American  “backwoods” 
region  with  a frontier  town.  Lining  the  road  on  both 
sides,  mile  after  mile,  were  shanties  and  “clearings,” 
strikingly  like  our  Western  pioneer  settlements.  The 
houses,  all  in  a row  on  either  side  of  the  street,  were 
simply  wooden  boxes  standing  in  the  midst  of  clear- 
ings, in  which  the  trees,  recently  felled,  were  still 
smoking,  filling  the  air  with  the  fragrant  odor  of  burnt 
wood  and  leaves.  As  the  same  dense,  monotonous 
forest  frames  in  all  these  houses,  which  have  no  more 
individual  differences  than  so  many  beans  or  peas,  I do 
not  see  how  the  inhabitants  can  find  their  OAvn  homes 
unless  they  label  them,  or  note  the  number  and  relative 
position  of  the  ugly  black  stumps  which  still  disfigure 
all  the  yards,  — or  did  disfigure  them  at  that  time,  — 
for  I have  no  doubt  that  since  then  they  have  all  been 
dug  out  to  make  room  for  vegetable  and  flower  gardens. 


180 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


The  black,  rich  soil  was  being  dug  up,  and,  in  some 
places,  potatoes  and  other  crops  were  already  in  full 
bloom.  Such  a luxuriant  growth  of  potatoes  I had 
never  seen  in  my  life  as  along  this  whole  road,  culmi- 
nating at  Kamikawa. 

These  Japanese  pioneers  will  have  a pleasanter  time 
in  summer  than  their  relatives  on  the  main  island,  but 
I do  not  envy  them  during  the  long  Siberian  winter, 
when  their  huts  will  be  buried  in  six  feet  of  snow  for 
six  or  seven  months.  The  trouble  with  these  people 
is  that,  as  these  frail  board  shanties  with  paper  windows 
prove,  they  do  not  know  how  to  adapt  their  building 
to  the  needs  of  a cold  climate.  If  they  would  only 
build  their  huts  of  heavier  timber,  with  open  fireplaces 
instead  of  their  absurd  charcoal  pots,  they  might  be 
tolerably  comfortable  in  winter.  Firewood  for  the 
most  voracious  of  chimneys  is  more  than  abundant,  and 
costs  nothing  but  the  trouble  of  cutting  it  in  the  forest, 
which  extends  illimitably  into  the  howling  wilderness 
from  every  back  yard. 

As  an  international  curiosity,  these  American  “ clear- 
ings,” pioneer  shanties,  and  rows  of  foreign  potatoes 
were  interesting,  but  I was  glad  when  we  got  away 
from  them  into  the  lonely  grandeur  and  silence  of  the 
forest  primeval.  Japan  is  a paradise  for  trees,  because 
two-tliirds  of  its  rain  falls  in  the  summer  months  when 
it  is  most  needed.  It  has  u as  great  a variety  of  trees 
as  Eastern  North  America,  and  nearly  twice  as  great 
a variety  as  Europe.”  The  French  Ministry  of  Agri- 
culture has  recently  published  a treatise  of  172  pages 
on  the  forests  of  Japan,1  in  which  attention  is  called  to 
the  great  care  the  government  takes  to  preserve  these 
1 A travers  le  Jopon , Paris,  1894. 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


181 


treasures,  a special  college  of  agriculture  and  forestry 
having  been  established  near  Toky5,  which  has  as  many 
as  three  hundred  students.  It  is  obvious  that  some 
day,  when  fires  and  the  lumberman’s  axe  have  destroyed 
our  noble  American  forests,  Japan  will  have  a store- 
house of  great  commercial  value.  “ When  will  our 
nation,”  asks  Mr.  Griffis,  “ learn  to  have  the  same  care 
for  our  forests  that  is  seen  even  among  these  people, 
whom  we  consider  far  less  civilized  than  ourselves  ? ” 

Of  all  the  Japanese  forests,  that  which  covers  the 
greater  part  of  Yezo  — an  island  about  the  size  of  Ire- 
land — is  the  largest,  the  most  varied,  and  the  loneliest. 
Strange  to  say,  for  such  a northern  latitude,  pines  and 
other  evergreens  are  scarce  compared  with  the  hard 
wood  or  deciduous  trees.  Many  of  these,  including  oak, 
maple,  mountain  ash,  birch,  magnolia,  elder,  chestnut, 
poplar,  wild  cherry,  linden,  etc.,  are  familiar  to  us,  yet 
they  seem  to  differ  from  ours  as  English  children  born 
in  America  or  Australia  differ  from  the  old  stock ; and 
there  is  a sufficient  admixture  of  “exotic  ” creepers  and 
bamboos  to  give  the  ensemble  a distinctly  Oriental  effect. 
Usually  these  different  kinds  of  trees  are  mixed  up 
irregularly,  but  at  intervals  we  came  upon  colonies 
where  one  or  the  other  predominated.  Some  were 
straight  as  masts,  others  gnarled  and  bent  crooked  by 
wind  and  snow,  while  large  regions  received  a tropical 
aspect  from  the  monstrous  trailing  vines  which  wound 
themselves  around  the  poor  trees,  like  the  tentacles  of 
devilfish,  crushing  them  in  their  unrelenting  embrace, 
and  putting  forth  their  arms  for  fresh  victims. 

So  densely  are  these  trees  usually  crowded  together, 
that  our  eyes  could  rarely  penetrate  more  than  a hun- 
dred feet  from  the  road.  How  the  bear-hunting  Ainos 


182 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


can  make  their  way  through  this  tangle  is  a mystery, 
especially  in  view  of  the  underbrush.  I had  expected 
that  in  this  moist  northern  climate  graceful,  inoffensive 
ferns  and  mosses  would  chiefly  clothe  the  ground,  as  in 
the  damp  forests  of  Oregon  and  Alaska.  Ferns  were, 
indeed,  not  rare,  but  there  was  no  carpet  of  mosses. 
Along  the  road  we  found  a good  deal  of  wild  rhubarb, 
with  leaves  as  large  as  the  bottom  of  a tub,  but  within 
the  woods  the  undergrowth  was  chiefly  a tough  chaos 
of  dwarf  bamboo  scrub,  from  a foot  to  three  feet  in 
height,  with  hastate  leaves,  of  which  we  found  the 
horses  very  fond,  and  which  were  also  useful  to  brush 
away  the  flies  from  them  and  ourselves.  Mr.  Yabi 
looked  quite  picturesque  with  a bundle  of  them  fastened 
around  his  head  for  a sunshade. 

When  Sir  Rutherford  Alcock  wrote  that  Japan  is  a 
country  in  which  flowers  have  no  fragrance,  fruits  no 
flavor,  and  birds  no  song,  he  was  ignorant  of  the  charms 
of  this  Yezo  forest.  It  is  true  that  besides  crows  (which 
are  not  very  musical)  we  heard  or  saw  few  birds  or 
other  animals,  but  in  one  place  the  air  was  suddenly 
musical  with  the  song  of  several  birds,  one  of  which,  my 
companion  said,  was  the  Japanese  nightingale.  It  had 
a rich,  full,  sustained  note  almost  as  sweet  as  that  of  the 
German  nightingale,  and  we  heard  it  repeatedly  on  our 
lonely  rides.  As  for  the  scent  of  flowers,  has  not  the 
linden  tree  flowers,  and  did  we  not  inhale  their  delicious 
fragrance  by  the  hour  as  we  rode  along  the  wooded 
mountain  sides  — a fragrance  rich  and  voluptuous  as 
the  atmosphere  of  an  orange  grove?  Yet  it  must  be 
admitted  that  the  eye  was  better  provided  for  than  the 
ear  or  nose.  Among  the  loveliest  sights  were  the 
abundant  morning  glories,  whose  rank  vines  had  climbed 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


183 


up  and  wound  themselves  around  the  stalks  of  plain 
roadside  plants,  about  six  feet  high,  adorning  them  with 
a beauty  that  seemed  to  be  their  own.  There  were 
other  beautiful  flowers  in  abundance,  especially  one  of 
an  exquisite  blue  color,  whose  name  I tried  in  vain  to 
discover.  Though  an  habitual  haunter  of  forests,  I was 
amazed  and  delighted  with  the  countless  tints  of  green 
on  the  densely  wooded  hillsides,  where  forest  fires  never 
rage,  because  it  rains  so  often ; and  I noticed  again 
the  peculiar  softness  and  delicate  feminine  quality  of 
Japanese  landscape  and  atmosphere.  For  a long  dis- 
tance the  rapids  of  the  river  along  with  which  we  rode 
were  so  wildly  turbulent  as  to  suggest  the  Merced  in 
the  Yosemite  Valley. 

Occasionally  I dismounted  and  waited  till  the  others 
were  out  of  sight,  in  order  to  enjoy  the  ravishing  silence 
of  the  afternoon  forest,  when  not  a breeze  was  stirring. 
The  green  mountain  chain  to  the  right  looked  unutter- 
ably desolate.  Probably  no  human  foot,  not  even  that 
of  an  Aino,  has  ever  trodden  it,  and  the  bears  still 
roam  its  thickets  undisturbed.  Now  and  then  a crack- 
ling stick,  which  caused  the  horse  to  prick  up  his  ears, 
made  me  hope  that  a bear  might  come  into  the  road,  but 
no  such  luck  was  mine.  We  saw  no  trace  of  a ’bear 
except  that  superb  fur  at  the  inn.  Yet,  after  all,  what 
is  the  coarse  excitement  of  seeing  a bear  compared  with 
the  esthetic  delights  of  a virgin  forest,  with  nothing 
but  poetic  sounds  to  break  the  golden  silence? 

In  the  chapter  headed  “ Off  for  Japanese  Siberia,”  I 
referred  to  the  grounds  that  induced  me  to  choose  such 
a name  as  that  for  Yezo  — its  proximity  to  the  real 
Siberia,  the  probability  that  it  once  formed  a part  of  the 
Siberian  continent,  the  presence  on  it  of  animals  found 


184 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


also  in  Siberia  but  not  on  the  Japanese  mainland,  the 
great  cold  and  deep  snows  of  winter,  the  monstrous 
bears,  and,  finally,  by  an  odd  coincidence,  its  choice  by 
the  government  as  a place  of  exile  and  punishment  for 
dangerous  criminals.  We  had  already  seen  many  of 
these  convicts  at  the  Poronai  coal  mines ; on  this  road 
we  met  more  of  them,  in  numbers  increasing  as  we 
neared  Kamikawa.  They  wore  brick-colored  trousers 
and  coats  or  blouses  of  the  same  color.  A Japanese  is 
nothing  if  not  polite,  though  he  be  but  a burglar  or  a 
cut-throat ; these  criminals,  condemned  to  ten  or  twenty 
years’  servitude,  never  neglected  to  bow  low  to  us,  or  to 
lift  their  head-cover,  if  they  had  any,  as  did  also  their 
guards.  Again  I was  surprised  to  see  several  dozens 
of  convicts  in  charge  of  only  one  or  two  soldiers.  Mr. 
Landor  says  he  has  heard  of  sixteen  escaping  in  one 
month,  but  that  must  have  been  at  or  near  Poronai,  for 
in  this  wilderness  escape  would  be  difficult  and  recap- 
ture easy,  as  they  wear  a distinctive  dress  and  there  is 
but  one  road.  This  single  road  into  the  Avilderness  is 
like  the  thread  in  the  Labyrinthian  maze,  or  else  it 
might  be  compared  to  a plank  laid  across  the  ocean. 
To  leave  this  plank  and  get  lost  in  the  forest  Avould 
be  almost  certain  death ; for,  even  if  not  eaten  by 
bears,  how  is  an  escaped  convict  to  find  and  make 
his  way  to  the  coast  through  this  impenetrable,  silent, 
illimitable  jungle?  Of  course  there  are  possibilities 
— he  might  reach  a river  and  follow  that,  or  he 
might  be  guided  by  the  caws  of  crows  to  an  isolated 
Aino  settlement,  or  a stray  Japanese  fisherman’s  or 
hunter’s  cabin.  But  such  settlements  are  extremely 
rare  in  Yezo,  away  from  the  coast.  Even  on  this 
road,  after  leaving  the  clearings,  there  Avas  no  sign  of 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


185 


human  life  except  a semi-occasional  straw  hut  or  straw 
tent. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  Kamikawa,  the 
terminus  for  the  present  of  the  forest  road,  which,  how- 
ever, we  were  told,  was  to  be  continued  some  day  to  the 
northeastern  coast  at  Abashiri.  Kamikawa  lies,  as  I 
have  said,  almost  in  the  exact  centre  of  Yezo,  and  is 
intended  to  be  its  future  capital ; but  when  we  saw  it 
Sapporo  had  as  yet  no  cause  for  jealousy,  as  there  were 
only  three  or  four  buildings,  surrounded  by  rows  of 
potatoes  growing  in  astounding  luxuriance.  The  largest 
of  the  buildings  was  a commodious  tea  house,  where  we 
were  welcomed  and  made  comfortable.  We  intended 
to  go  fishing,  but  were  told  the  water  was  too  muddy 
after  the  rain.  So  we  warmed  ourselves  with  the  aid 
of  a few  cups  of  hot  tea  and  a hibachi,  — it  was  so  cold 
that  I could  see  my  breath,  — and  then  the  host  took  us  a 
short  distance  to  show  us  some  of  the  convicts  at  work. 
These  convicts,  I should  have  said  before,  had  made  the 
road  over  which  we  had  ridden,  and  built  the  cabins 
in  the  settlement,  which,  we  were  informed,  was  called 
Sorachi-Buto,  and  had  already  a thousand  houses  scat- 
tered along  several  miles  of  the  road.  We  found  quite 
a number  of  the  criminals  at  work  making  and  trans- 
porting logs  ; but  their  crimes  did  not  seem  to  weigh 
heavily  on  their  conscience,  for  they  were  all  merrily 
and  lustily  singing  a phrase  which  I jotted  down  in  my 
note  book  as  follows  : — 


That  evening,  as  I lay  on  my  quilts,  this  melody  kept 


186 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


haunting  me,  and  I could  not  help  thinking  what  would 
become  of  us  if  the  convicts  should  overpower  their  few 
guards  and  pay  us  a nocturnal  visit.  Somehow  the 
polite  demeanor  of  these  red-coated  fellows  had  made 
such  a soothing  impression  that  this  thought  had  no  ter- 
ror, as  it  would  have  had  in  a “ Christian  ” country ; it 
seemed  as  if  these  meek-looking  men  would  be  altogether 
too  civil  to  do  anything  wrong  unless  they  were  drunk  ; 
and  I fancy  that  this  idea  was  not  so  very  far  out  of  the 
way.  Confucianism  and  Buddhism  (perhaps  vegetarian- 
ism too)  have  worked  together  in  making  the  Japanese 
wonderfully  gentle,  docile,  and  amiable.  How  different 
these  religions  are  in  their  influence  from  the  fanatical 
Mohammedanism  ! This  thought  led  me  to  compare  my 
present  situation  with  my  visit  to  Tetuan,  Morocco. 
That  place,  too,  I had  reached  after  a lonely  fifty-mile 
ride  on  horseback  ; and  when  I got  there  I felt  as  if  I 
had  been  dropped  back  at  least  a thousand  years  into 
medkeval  barbarism,  dirt,  and  misery,  and  in  the 
one  night  I spent  there  I had  a slight  attack  of  that 
feeling  of  utter  isolation  from  the  world  which  is  said  to 
drive  European  ambassadors  and  their  companions  who 
have  to  spend  a few  weeks  in  the  city  of  Fez,  almost  to 
distraction  and  suicide.  How  different  the  feeling  at 
Kamikawa ! Here  I was,  in  the  centre  of  the  Yezo 
wilds,  perhaps  the  only  foreigner  in  a two  days’  trip, 
among  hundreds  of  the  worst  criminals,  yet  I had  not 
the  slightest  feeling  of  isolation  from  the  civilized  world. 
Even  that  queer  fancy,  which  so  often  overcomes  one  in 
Japanese  cities,  of  having  been  transferred  to  another 
planet,  was  absent  here,  thanks  to  the  cosmopolitanism 
of  forest  life  and  scenery.  Indeed,  the  only  exotic 
element  in  my  feelings  came  from  the  wonder  that 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


187 


criminals  could  be  so  urbane  and  gentlemanly,  so  cheer- 
ful and  musical. 

When,  on  our  return  trip,  we  rode  up  again  to  Mr. 
Satomi’s  neat  little  inn  at  Takigawa,  we  were  barkingly 
received  by  a dog  who  had  previously  amused  us  by  his 
odd  conduct,  and  who  had  apparently  not  yet  got  over 
his  surprise  at  sight  of  a genuine  foreigner.  He  growled 
and  barked  whenever  he  caught  a glimpse  of  me  (to 
Yabi  he  paid  no  attention)  ; yet  his  curiosity  prompted 
him  repeatedly  to  come  and  peep  into  my  room. 

A short  siesta  on  the  brown-and-gold  bearskin  was 
interrupted  by  a musical  performance  in  front  of  the 
inn.  A vocal  quartet  of  four  men  was  discoursing 
native  music.  One  of  them,  who  had  a good  baritone 
voice,  sang  a short  solo,  whereupon  the  others  joined 
him  in  a few  bars  of  chorus.  The  accompaniment  was 
provided  by  four  primitive  instruments,  — a few  small 
bells  attached  to  a handle,  — which  the  men  held  in 
their  hands  and  shook  all  the  time,  like  sleighbells.  I 
had  on  a new  but  pocketless  kimono,  which  had  been 
supplied  when  I took  my  bath,  and  therefore  went  back 
to  my  room  for  a few  pennies  ; but  when  I returned  the 
strolling  musicians  were  gone,  to  my  disappointment,  as 
I wanted  to  hear  more  of  their  music,  especially  with  a 
view  to  discovering  whether  the  four  voices  would  ever, 
accidentally  or  purposely,  unite  in  genuine  harmony. 

Mr.  Satomi  showed  us  a pair  of  Aino  snowshoes 
made  of  salmon  skin,  which  he  said  would  last  several 
weeks.  With  these  shoes  on  the  Ainos  pursue  the  bears 
and  deer  across  the  trackless  forest  in  winter.  W e were 
also  informed  that  if  we  wished  to  see  some  Aino  women, 
we  must  go  down  to  the  river.  We  did  so,  and  arrived 
just  in  time  to  see  several  Aino  canoes,  propelled  by 


188 


LOTOS -TIME  IN  JAPAN 


long  poles,  returning  from  the  lower  river  with  a fine 
catch  of  salmon.  On  the  bank  were  a number  of  women 
awaiting  the  fishermen.  The  younger  ones  were  rather 
pretty,  with  almost  Caucasian  features,  and  large,  ex- 
pressive black  eyes.  The  older  ones  were  hideous  in 
their  dirty  clothes  reaching  up  to  the  neck,  and  with 
their  tattooed  moustaches,  which  made  them  look  like 
grenadiers  in  petticoats.  Most  Aino  women  have  these 
moustaches  tattooed  on  their  upper  lips.  It  is  done 
before  they  are  old  enough  to  have  a definite  opinion 
as  to  whether  their  appearance  is  thereby  improved  or 
otherwise ; but  it  is  said  that  they  like  it,  because  it 
makes  them  look  “very  manly.”  Our  “ andromaniacs,” 
as  Dr.  Parkhurst  calls  them,  will  doubtless  be  delighted 
to  hear  that  their  ideal  — to  be  as  much  like  men  as 
possible  — is  shared  by  these  Aino  women,  whom  those 
who  know  them  best  place  even  below  the  black  Au- 
stralians in  intelligence. 

That  evening  we  had  for  supper  one  of  the  salmon 
caught  by  the  Ainos  we  had  observed.  It  was  juicy 
and  well-flavored,  though  not  equal  to  the  best  Colum- 
bia River  Chinook.  In  the  morning  we  were  favored 
with  the  usual  fog,  lasting  till  after  nine.  No  further 
incident  worth  recording  occurred  till  we  were  back  in 
our  inn  at  American  Sapporo.  On  examining  my  ac- 
counts I found  that  the  travelling  expenses  for  myself, 
Mr.  Yabi,  the  guide,  and  our  three  horses,  were  under 
five  dollars  a day  — and  Yezo  is  considered  the  most 
expensive  part  of  Japan.  A horse  costs  three  cents  a 
mile,  and  the  guide  is  thrown  in  free,  but  expects  a fee 
of  five  cents  ! 

That  night  I was  kept  awake  a long  time  by  a Japa- 
jiese  sinner  reading  to  himself  aloud,  so  Mr.  Yabi  said, 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


189 


from  a religious  book,  which  he  did  with  the  singing 
Chinese  inflections,  such  as  one  hears  on  the  stage.  On 
such  occasions  one  realizes  that  brick  is  a better  material 
for  building  inns  than  paper  screens,  or  thin  wooden 
walls  extending  only  half-way  up  to  the  ceiling.  To 
while  away  time,  I asked  my  friend  some  more  questions 
about  Japanese  journalism.  He  said  he  was  anxious  to 
start  a magazine,  if  he  could  raise  the  necessary  capital 
— about  $3000.  It  would  take  four  or  five  thousand 
subscribers  to  pay  expenses,  and  he  added  that  there 
were  already  several  magazines  with  10,000  to  15,000 
subscribers.  He  knew  that  American  magazines  pay 
their  contributors  from  $15  to  $25  and  more  a page, 
whereas  in  Japan  $5  a page  is  seldom  exceeded.  The 
editors  of  the  daily  papers  seldom  receive  more  than  $20 
monthly  salary,  and  many  would  be  glad  to  get  that. 
But  the  publishers  cannot  afford  to  pay  more,  since, 
according  to  Mr.  Yabi,  all  but  a very  few  lose  money. 
Some  manage  to  keep  on  their  feet  by  resorting  to  job 
printing  ; others  are  owned  by  wealthy  politicians  who 
support  their  “organ.”  Although  editors  receive  such 
small  salaries,  there  is  no  lack  of  applicants,  as  journal- 
ism is  considered  an  honorable  employment.  The  low 
price  at  which  most  of  the  papers  are  sold,  — half  a cent 
to  a cent  or  two  per  copy,  — the  small  amount  of  adver- 
tising, and  the  insignificant  number  of  subscribers, — 
few  having  over  10,000,  — combine  to  make  journalism 
a precarious  venture.  There  are  very  few  newsboys,  as 
the  Japanese  are  not  in  the  habit  of  buying  their  papers 
in  the  street,  and  Mr.  Yabi  naturally  looked  on  America, 
where  almost  everybody  buys  at  least  one  morning  and 
one  evening  paper,  as  the  journalist’s  paradise.  I was 
surprised  to  hear  that  there  are,  in  Tokyo,  weekly  papers 


190 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


specially  appealing  to  ladies,  with  stories  and  pictures, 
and  with  large  circulations  — up  to  50,000.  But  it  will 
be  a long  time  before  Japan  can  afford  illustrated 
weeklies  or  magazines  like  ours,  though  there  is  no  lack 
of  able  authors  and  artists. 

The  growth  of  journalism  is  one  of  the  marvels  of 
Japan.  In  1871  there  were  no  newspapers  in  the  coun- 
try ; in  1891  they  numbered  nearly  650.  Mr.  Black, 
who  was  the  first  to  start  a Japanese  newspaper  after 
foreign  models,  relates,  in  his  Young  Japan,  some  amus- 
ing stories  of  his  experiences.  An  American  newspaper 
office  can  print  everything  with  less  than  800  letters 
and  marks.  Mr.  Black  started  out  with  1200  separate 
characters,  but  gradually  found  that  he  needed  over 
12,000,  which  made  the  compositor’s  work  anything 
but  easy.  He  had  considerable  difficulty,  too,  in  get- 
ting subscribers.  One  day  he  called  on  a merchant, 
asking  him  if  he  did  not  want  to  take  his  paper.  The 
answer  was,  “ Why,  I’ve  got  it ; what  more  do  you 
want  ? ” He  thought  that  a newspaper  was  like  a book, 
and  that  Mr.  Black  must  be  joking  when  he  asked  him 
to  buy  his  paper  every  day.  When,  finally,  the  matter 
was  explained,  the  merchant  exclaimed,  “ What  ! as 
much  as  this  changed  and  fresh  every  day  ? I cannot 
believe  it  possible  ! ” 

To-day  Tokyo  is  full  of  newspaper  offices*  for  each 
political  party,  most  of  them  rather  primitive  in  appear- 
ance. On  account  of  the  strict  censorship,  every  news- 
paper has  its  special  “prison  editor.”  In  advertising, 
too,  they  are  up  to  date.  Netto  relates  how,  on  one 
occasion,  a new  liberal  paper  introduced  itself  by  letting 
off  some  day  fireworks,  resulting  in  a shower  of  hand- 
kerchiefs, on  which  the  name  of  the  paper  was  printed. 


INTO  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST 


191 


Those  who  caught  a handkerchief  were  not  only  al- 
lowed to  keep  it,  but  could  receive  the  paper  free  for  a 
month.  The  trouble  with  Japanese  newspapers  is  that, 
even  more  than  with  us,  politics  takes  up  most  of  their 
space.  One  of  the  most  interesting  features  of  the  Japan 
Mail  is  the  summary  of  the  contents  of  the  leading 
J apanese  papers,  which  shows  that,  in  the  matter  of 
small  happenings  and  crimes,  Tokyo  is  not  so  very 
unlike  New  York  or  London. 


THE  AINOS  AND  THE  WHALE 


YEZO  APPLES TIME  NOT  MONEY STAGE  RIDE  TO  MORO- 

RAN A USEFUL  LOTOS  POND ALONG  THE  WILD  COAST 

BEACH  ROSES FIRE-BOXES A DESERTED  AINO  TOWN 

EXCITEMENT  ON  THE  BEACH WHALE  ASHORE BLUB- 
BER AND  PRAYERS AINO  WOMEN REVENGE  ON  THE 

KODAKER 

We  had  made  our  plans  to  start  for  Hakodate  over- 
land early  in  the  morning.  We  had  sent  a letter  of 
thanks  to  the  Governor- General,  and  once  more  had 
called  on  Mr.  Hashiguchi  to  tell  him  how  much  we  had 
enjoyed  our  trip,  in  spite  of  rain,  fog,  and  the  rather 
un-Siberian  temperature  in  the  afternoon  — drawbacks 
which  were  fully  atoned  for  by  what  we  had  seen,  and 
by  the  opportunity  to  sleep  a few  nights  without  musty 
mosquito  nets  over  our  heads.  The  superintendent  was 
sorry  we  could  not  stay  a few  days  longer  and  take  a 
Japanese  dinner  with  him.  Shortly  after  we  had  re- 
turned to  the  inn  he  sent  us  some  cream  and  another 
peck  of  apples  as  parting  gifts.  The  apples  were  splen- 
did big  fellows,  almost  ripe,  and  Mr.  Yabi  said  they 
would  cost  five  cents  apiece  in  Tokyo.  We  ate  all  we 
dared  to,  packed  some  into  the  corners  of  our  valises, 
and  distributed  the  remainder  among  the  tea-house  girls, 
in  addition  to  the  regular  chadai  or  tea  money.  Next 
morning,  nevertheless,  they  made  us  wait  a whole  hour 
for  our  breakfast,  which,  however,  did  not  make  much 

192 


THE  AINOS  AND  THE  WHALE 


193 


difference,  as  our  wagon  also  was  an  hour  late.  Haste 
is  a mystery  to  all  Asiatics,  as  I had  found  on  the  pre- 
ceding afternoon,  when  I sent  my  horse-broken  umbrella 
to  several  dealers  to  have  a new  handle  put  in.  They 
all  returned  it  with  the  message  that  it  could  not  be 
done  in  so  short  a time  as  half  a day ! 

To-day  the  trip  from  Sapporo  to  Mororan  can  be 
made  in  a few  hours  by  rail.  When  we  were  there  the 
railroad  was  not  built  — fortunately,  for  if  it  had  been 
we  might  have  been  tempted  to  take  it,  and  I should 
have  lost  the  most  interesting  of  all  my  experiences  in 
Japan.  After  three  hours’  driving  in  our  covered  cart, 
we  stopped  at  a wayside  inn  to  feed  the  horses  and  sip 
some  tea.  The  cakes  served  with  the  tea  were  in  the 
shape  of  napkin  rings,  colored  white,  with  a blue  or  red 
stripe  around  them.  There  were  also  round  wafers  with 
yellow  leaves  painted  on  them.  Near  the  inn  I was 
surprised  to  find,  in  this  Siberian  climate,  two  small 
lotos  ponds  full  of  large  pink  blossoms  of  delicious 
fragrance.  So  it  was  Lotos-Time  even  here.  I took 
several  kodak  snapshots  at  them,  to  the  great  amaze- 
ment of  a small  boy.  No  doubt  the  innkeeper  and  his 
family  had  sufficient  taste  to  appreciate  the  beauty  and 
fragrance  of  these  flowers,  for  why,  otherwise,  should' 
they  have  painted  even  their  cakes  and  wafers  ? Never- 
theless, I suspect  that  those  lotos  ponds  were  primarily 
intended  as  vegetable  gardens  for  raising  the  toothsome 
lotos  roots  — ever- welcome  ingredients  in  the  soup  bowl. 

There  were  very  few  houses  along  this  road.  For 
hours  it  passed  through  a dense  forest,  which  differed 
somewhat  from  that  on  the  Kamikawa  road,  especially 
by  the  absence  of  ferns  and  scrub-bamboo  in  the  under- 
growth. Later  on  the  road  became  very  sandy.  Pres- 


194 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


ently  there  were  no  more  trees  ahead,  and  at  the  same 
time  a stiff  saline  breeze  indicated  that  we  were  nearing* 

O 

the  ocean.  We  were,  in  fact,  approaching  the  coast 
village  of  Tomakomai,  thirty-four  miles  from  Sapporo, 
where  we  were  to  spend  the  night,  and  as  we  drove  up 
to  the  inn  we  heard  the  roar  of  the  waves.  Our  room 
faced  the  beach,  which  we  lost  no  time  in  visiting.  The 
ocean  is  never  so  exhilarating  to  me  as  mountain  and 
forest,  but  it  is  always  a pleasant  scenic  and  hygienic 
change.  On  this  occasion  it  seemed  as  if  we  had  been 
away  for  weeks,  and  the  emotion  on  seeing  the  illimit- 
able blue  expanse  once  more  was  tinged  by  the  thought 
that  these  waves,  now  dashing  themselves  against  the 
Yezo  beach,  might  have  come  in  an  unbroken  series  of 
swells  from  the  Oregon  coast,  five  thousand  miles  away. 
Why  is  it  that  we  dislike  a desolate  town,  but  revel  in 
the  melancholy  monotony  of  an  ocean  beach  ? It  was  an 
ecstatic  pleasure  to  walk  along  this  wild  coast,  with  the 
foaming  waves  on  the  right,  and  high  sand  hills  shutting 
out  the  rest  of  the  world  on  the  left.  But  on  their  tops 
these  sand  hills  are  anything  but  gloomy,  for  there  they 
are  green  with  the  pretty  bushes  of  the  dwarf  wild  rose, 
only  six  inches  high,  but  covered  with  thousands  of 
large  fragrant  roses,  and  millions  of  large  berries,  green, 
yellow,  and  red,  that  once  were  roses  too,  and  are  no 
less  beautiful  as  seeds  than  as  blossoms.'  They  are 
remarkably  large,  these  berries  are,  reminding  me  of 
those  lovely  clusters  of  small  yellow  and  red  “ cherry  ” 
tomatoes,  which  seem  almost  too  pretty  to  eat,  and 
which,  in  truth,  are  seldom  eaten,  although  they  are 
much  better  than  the  larger  tomatoes.  The  Ainos  eat 
these  rose-berries.  In  Germany  they  make  an  excellent 
preserve  of  them.  I hope  the  reader  will  pardon  these 


THE  AINOS  AND  THE  WHALE 


195 


frequent  lapses  from  esthetics  into  gastronomy,  but  the 
Yezo  air  stimulates  the  appetite. 

Like  all  the  other  houses  in  this  village,  our  inn  had 
only  one  story,  and  a dilapidated  appearance.  Our 
room,  as  I have  said,  faced  the  beach,  and  I made  up  my 
mind  to  leave  everything  open  and  let  the  sea  breeze 
play  over  us  all  night  long.  But  1 had  reckoned  with- 
out the  host,  who  came  along,  soon  after  dark,  to  do  up 
all  the  shutters  and  seal  ns  hermetically  in  our  window- 
less rooms.  This  was  more  than  I could  submit  to,  and 
I protested  firmly.  The  man  said  he  must  close  the 
amado  because  there  were  many  thieves  about ; but 
finally,  after  I had  assured  him  that  the  burglar  would 
have  to  pass  over  my  body,  and  that  I would  make  good 
any  possible  damages,  he  consented  to  leave  them  partly 
open.  It  seems  almost  incredible  that  so  intelligent  a 
nation  as  the  Japanese  should  be  willing  to  put  them- 
selves on  a level  Avitli  the  mediaeval  Moors  of  Morocco, 
by  sleeping  all  the  year  round  in  windowless,  closed 
houses.  Morse  says  that  in  some  Japanese  houses  pro- 
vision is  made  for  ventilation,  in  the  shape  of  long,  nar- 
row openings  just  above  the  amado.  For  my  part,  I 
never  saw  any  such  arrangement,  but  had  to  fight  for 
fresh  air  almost  every  night.  What  makes  this  sealing 
up  the  more  aggravating  is  the  fact  that  the  Japanese 
are  not  really  afraid  of  night  air  or  cold  air.  As  one 
writer  says,  “ Their  indifference  to  cold  is  seen  in  the 
fact  that  in  their  winter  parties  the  rooms  will  often  be 
entirely  open  to  the  garden,  which  may  be  glistening 
with  a fresh  snowfall.” 

Were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  Japanese  houses  are  not 
quite  air-tight,  cases  of  asphyxiation  would  soon  deci- 
mate the  population.  The  amount  of  kerosene  burnt 


196 


LOTOS- TIME  IN  JAPAN 


at  night  may  be  inferred  from  the  standing  heading  of 
“ Floating  Kerosene  ” in  the  newspapers,  with  lists  of 
fifteen  to  twenty  special  vessels  under  way,  at  one  time, 
from  New  York  and  Philadelphia.  But  the  worst 
offender  is  the  firebox,  which,  unless  it  is  fed  with  char- 
coal well  fired,  gives  out  deadly  carbonic  acid  gas,  that 
seeks  the  level  of  the  sleepers  on  the  floor  mats.  These 
fireboxes  are,  however,  interesting  objects  in  them- 
selves. The  most  poetic  of  them  are  those  which  simu- 
late the  crater  of  Fuji.  These  are  portable  ; others  are 
sunk  in  the  floor,  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Often 
they  consist  of  a section  of  a tree  trunk,  hollowed  out 
and  lined  with  metal  to  prevent  combustion.  Sometimes 
pebbles  or  ashes  take  the  place  of  the  metal  lining. 

The  next  morning  we  drove  along  the  desolate  sandy 
coast,  mostly  in  sight  of  the  ocean.  The  soil  was  poor, 
the  road  sandy,  and  many  paths  led  off  from  it  into  the 
interior.  We  passed  a few  small,  miserable  villages, 
and  as  we  were  now  in  Ainoland  we  asked  the  driver 
where  the  largest  settlement  of  the  hairy  men  was  on 
our  road.  “ At  Shiraoi,”  he  replied,  adding  that  we 
would  have  plenty  of  time  to  see  them,  as  he  always 
allowed  his  horses  to  rest  there  for  an  hour  or  two.  We 
soon  arrived  at  that  village,  which  seemed  to  be  a re- 
markably malodorous  place,  for  we  smelt  it  a long  way 
off.  Yezo  is  noted  for  its  fishy  odors,  but  this  particular 
specimen  was  so  ancient  and  offensive  that  I concluded 
it  must  come  from  some  storehouse  or  manufactory  of 
fish  manure,  a sort  of  guano  made  of  the  refuse  of 
sardines  and  herrings,  from  which  the  oil  has  been 
extracted.  But  this  theory,  as  we  discovered  ten  min- 
utes later,  was  incorrect. 

“ Ainotown  ” is  usually  separated  some  distance  from 


THE  AINOS  AND  THE  WHALE 


197 


the  Japanese  portion  of  a village,  as  the  Japanese  look 
upon  the  Ainos  as  inferior  beings,  which,  however,  does 
not  prevent  them  from  marrying  their  pretty  girls. 
Starting  in  the  direction  pointed  out  to  us  by  our 
driver,  we  soon  came  across  the  Aino  district.  It  con- 
sisted of  a few  irregular  rows  of  straw  houses,  as  primi- 
tive as  gypsy  hovels,  with  doors  but  no  windows.  There 
were  no  regular  streets,  but  the  huts  were  planted  at 
random,  in  squatter  fashion.  We  stopped  at  one  of 
them  and  peeped  in  at  the  door,  but  saw  nothing  to 
reward  our  curiosity,  except  a mat  placed  on  the  bare 
ground,  and  a fireplace  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 
Nobody  was  at  home,  and  the  same  was  the  case  in  the 
other  huts  we  looked  into.  We  met,  however,  several 
groups  of  women  and  children,  hastening  toward  the 
beach,  and  talking  so  excitedly  that  they  hardly  noticed 
us,  although  a foreigner  must  be  a strange  apparition  to 
them.  Suspecting  that  something  interesting  was  going 
on,  we  followed  them  to  the  beach,  and  as  soon  as  we 
got  on  top  of  the  sand  dune  which  separates  the  village 
from  the  ocean  we  beheld  a sight  which  made  my  heart 
leap  for  joy.  A large  whale  had  been  cast  ashore  by 
the  heaving  waves,  and  around  it,  in  the  midst  of  the 
foaming  breakers,  were  assembled  all  the  Aino  popula- 
tion of  Shiraoi,  about  200  men,  women,  and  children. 
Here  was  the  greatest  bit  of  tourist  luck  that  had  ever 
befallen  me.  I might  have  lived  right  among  these 
savages  for  weeks  and  months  without  getting  such  a 
fine  opportunity  to  see  them  in  their  element.  Indeed, 
the  innkeeper  afterwards  told  us  that  such  an  event 
occurred  but  once  in  five  or  six  years. 

The  whale  had  been  beached  during  the  night,  and 
now,  at  eight  o’clock  (we  had  left  our  inn  very  early), 


198 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


the  whole  village  had  turned  out  to  make  the  most  of 
the  rare  opportunity.  The  marine  monster  had  been 
fastened,  by  means  of  a strong  rope,  to  a stake  driven 
in  the  ground,  to  prevent  it  from  being  washed  out 
again.  It  was  a big  fellow,  sixty  feet  long,  as  we  were 
informed  by  one  of  the  two  Japanese  policemen  who  had 
appeared  on  the  scene,  presumably  to  prevent  quarrels. 
It  had  been  considerably  battered  by  the  angry  waves, 
and  it  was  no  wonder  that  they  had  spewed  it  ashore, 
for  it  was  no  longer  fresh,  and  we  now  knew  the  source 
of  the  horrible  odor  we  had  noticed  on  approaching  the 
village.  We  had  to  keep  carefully  on  the  wind  side 
of  it,  but  the  Ainos  appeared  to  revel  in  the  odor  as 
dogs  do  rolling  on  dry  carrion.  They  crowded  eagerly 
around  the  carcass,  brandishing  long  knives,  with  which 
they  deftly  cut  off  big  slices  of  flesh  and  blubber,  re- 
treating every  other  moment  with  wild  shouts  when- 
ever a breaker  dashed  over  the  carcass.  Their  faces 
were  delightfully  expressive  and  animated  by  the  ex- 
citement of  the  sport. 

Realizing  the  rare  opportunity,  I dashed  recklessly 
among  them  with  my  camera,  holding  my  breath,  and 
firing  away  as  fast  as  I could  wind  it  up  and  “touch 
the  button.”  The  savages  “did  the  rest.”  Ainos, 
Ainos,  everywhere,  — in  all  imaginable  attitudes  and 
groupings  ! Did  ever  kodaker  have  such  luck?  I 
took  at  least  three  dozen  shots,  and  before  long  my 
strange  actions  with  the  mysterious  little  black  box, 
which  I kept  aiming  at  them,  distracted  the  attention 
of  the  younger  ones  from  the  whale.  The  girls  espe- 
cially watched  me  with  wondering  eyes,  and  some  of 
them  even  followed  me  about.  One  young  woman, 
of  perhaps  seventeen,  possibly  suspecting  what  I was 


THE  AINOS  AND  THE  WHALE 


199 


doing,  put  up  her  hand  before  her  face  when  I aimed 
at  her,  — but  too  late  ! She  did  not  realize  the  rapid- 
ity of  instantaneous  photography.  Several  of  the  girls 
were  rather  attractive,  and  one  of  them  was  really  very 
pretty,  with  regular  Caucasian  features,  a light  bru- 
nette complexion,  and  large,  round,  wondering  black 
eyes  that  many  an  American  belle  might  have  envied 
her.  She  was  about  thirteen  or  fourteen,  and,  besides 
her,  there  were  two  or  three  older  ones  who  would 
have  been  pretty,  according  to  our  standard,  had  they 
not  been  disfigured  and  masculinized  by  their  tattooed 
moustaches,  which  are  almost  as  bad  as  the  blackened 
teeth  and  shaved  eyebrows  of  Japanese  married  women 
under  the  old  regime. 

Some  of  the  women  were  helping  the  men  by  carry- 
ing the  big  chunks  of  whale  up  the  beach  above  the 
high-tide  mark,  where  they  made  several  piles  of  them, 
for  future  consumption.  For,  disgusting  as  it  may 
seem,  Aino  epicures  consider  “ high  ” whale  as  great  a 
delicacy  as  our  epicures  do  limburger  and  other  decayed 
cheeses.  These  piles  of  blubber  were  indeed  the  sig- 
nals for  a grand  picnic  later  on,  when  the  tidbits ‘were 
to  be  washed  down  in  big  chunks  with  copious  draughts 
of  rice  wine.  While  the  younger  men  were  still  en- 
gaged in  cutting  up  the  whale,  the  old  men  and  some 
of  the  women  and  children  were  already  squatting  in 
groups  on  the  sand,  as  if  waiting  for  the  good  things 
to  come.  Going  to  windward  for  a moment,  to  rest 
my  nostrils,  I witnessed  a comic  family  tragedy.  A 
naked  boy,  who  had  evidently  been  up  to  some  mis- 
chief (perhaps  he  had  stuck  his  finger  in  the  blubber 
and  licked  it  off),  was  led  by  his  father  outside  of 
the  group,  soundly  scolded,  and  probably  told  that  he 


200 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


shouldn’t  have  any  of  the  blubber  to  eat ; at  any  rate, 
he  tried  to  find  consolation  in  standing  there  and  blub- 
bering all  alone  by  himself.  There  he  stood,  in  an 
ideal  attitude  of  remorse,  fit  for  a sculptor.  Of  course 
I bagged  him  in  my  kodak. 

Of  the  groups  that  were  squatting  on  the  beach, 
the  most  interesting  was  at  the  extreme  left.  Here  a 
dozen  or  more  of  the  simple,  quaint  emblems  of  the 
Aino  religion  — peeled  and  whittled  sticks,  with  the 
curled  shavings  hanging  down  from  the  top  — had  been 
placed  in  a row  as  a boundary,  and  within  that  line 
about  twenty  of  the  village  elders  were  sitting  — dig- 
nified-looking old  men,  with  splendid  long  beards,  and 
an  intellectual  cast  of  countenance,  which  was,  of  course, 
deceptive,  as  none  of  the  Ainos  are  noted  for  their  men- 
tal endowments,  few  being  able  even  to  count  up  to  ten. 
They  were  squatting  in  a semicircle,  facing  the  sea, 
with  their  hands  uplifted,  and  waving  what  I took  to 
be  prayerful  thanks  for  the  godsend  on  which  they 
were  about  to  feast,  — with  perhaps  a supplementary 
prayer  that  there  might  be  wine  enough  to  go  round ; 
for  it  is  said  that  an  Aino  can  drink  five  times  as  much 
as  a Japanese  before  he  feels  tipsy ; and,  as  previously 
stated,  drinking  is  to  him  an  act  of  worship. 

Here  was  an  opportunity  which  no  true  kodaker 
could  possibly  miss,  — twenty  superb  specimens  of  the 
aboriginal  population  of  Japan,  sitting  in  a natural, 
photographic  group,  and  needing  no  instructions  as 
to  pose  and  expression  ! I suppose  it  was  a rude  thing 
to  do,  but  I could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  walk  right 
up  in  front  of  the  venerable  group  and  take  two  shots 
at  them,  which  I did  as  undemonstratively  and  “ detec- 
tively  ” as  possible,  as  I knew  that  they  object  violently 


HAIRY  AINO 


THE  AINOS  AND  THE  WHALE 


201 


to  being  photographed,  and  that,  although  ordinarily 
“ savages  in  everything  except  in  disposition,”  they 
have  been  known  to  handle  artists  and  photographers 
roughly.  Perhaps  they  did  not  know  that  a picture 
can  be  taken  without  a tripod,  and  had  never  seen  a 
kodak.  At  any  rate,  they  did  not  resent  my  actions. 
At  first  they  seemed  a little  surprised  and  interested, 
but  not  at  all  indignant.  But  when  I moved  a few 
more  steps,  close  to  the  religious  sticks,  the  chief  got 
up,  and,  with  a pleasant  smile  and  a gentle  motion  of 
the  hand,  begged  me  to  keep  away  from  them.  Kind 
old  fellow  ! I know  I deserved  a good  kicking  for  my 
impudence,  — or  perhaps  an  invitation  to  the  picnic,  — 
but,  at  any  rate,  I had  safely  boxed  my  surreptitious 
photographs,  and  once  more  chuckled  over  my  rare 
good  luck.  Indeed,  this  whole  whale  episode  had  been 
a combination  of  lucky  coincidences.  In  the  first  place, 
— mirabile  dictu , — that  in  all  the  miles  and  miles  of 
coast  the  whale  should  have  been  beached  exactly  in 
front  of  the  Aino  village ; secondly,  that  it  was  cus- 
tomary for  the  stage  to  stop  there  for  an  hour ; thirdly, 
that  we  came  there  not  only  on  the  right  day,  but  at 
the  right  hour  to  see  the  carving;  fourthly,  that  we  saw 
some  of  the  last  parties  hastening  down  to  the  beach, 
but  for  which  we  might  have  missed  everything  and 
seen  nothing  but  a deserted  village ; and  finally,  that 
the  sun  shone  brightly  enough  to  take  good  photographs, 
while  an  hour  later  clouds  spread  over  the  coast  and 
remained  for  two  days  or  longer. 

This  last  bit  of  luck,  however,  was  only  apparent. 
The  Aino  gods  had  their  revenge  for  my  irreverent  act 
in  photographing  the  sacred  sticks  and  the  elders  in  the 
act  of  worshipping.  The  chief  Aino  gods  are  the  forces 


202 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


of  Nature,  and  it  was  Nature,  in  its  manifestation  as 
Climate,  that  came  to  their  aid  by  almost  spoiling  all  my 
pictures.  When  I left  home  I had  been  warned  that  if 
I wished  to  get  any  good  out  of  my  camera,  I must 
keep  my  films  in  air-tight  wrappers.  I did  so,  but 
when  the  films  were  placed  in  the  camera  they  were  no 
longer  protected  from  the  extreme  moisture  of  the 
Japanese  summer  air,  the  result  being  that  most  of  my 
Yezo  photographs  were  mere  shadow-pictures. 

What  I especially  regretted  was  the  loss  of  that 
pretty  girl’s  picture.  She  may  have  been  a half-breed, 
— many  of  these  Ainos  of  the  southern  coast  are,  — but 
there  was  nothing  Japanesy  in  her  features,  and  the 
very  Oriental  appearance  of  the  Eurasians  of  the  Main 
Island,  — girls  who  are  half  Japanese,  half  European  or 
American,  — made  it  seem  probable  that  Japanese  phys- 
iognomy would  not  be  entirely  neutralized  in  case  of  a 
mixture  with  Aino  blood.  That  the  Aino  women  often 
have  Personal  Beauty  is  the  opinion  of  several  travellers. 
But  it  would  obviously  be  hopeless  to  look  for  Roman- 
tic Love  among  these  women  ; for  they  have  not  even 
yet  learned  to  kiss,  a gentle  bite  being  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  it.  Naturally  one  would  hardly  expect  folks 
who  boil  and  eat  the  amorous  mistletoe  like  cabbage, 
to  know  anything  about  the  gentle  art  of  osculation. 


FROM  MORORAN  TO  HAKODATE 


ESCORTED  TO  THE  MORORAN  INN CROSSING  THE  STORMY 

BAY SUBURBS  OF  HAKODATE EXPENSE  OF  THE  YEZO 

TRIP BATH  IN  THE  SULPHUR  SPRINGS THE  TYPHOON 

After  leaving  Shiraoi  we  saw  only  a few  more  Ainos, 
but  the  Japanese  settlements  became  gradually  more 
frequent.  The  scenery  did  not  amount  to  much  till  we 
caught  our  first  glimpse  of  the  Bay  of  Mororan,  studded 
with  islands  and  looking  like  a lake,  so  completely  is  it 
land-locked.  It  is  considered  one  of  the  finest  scenes  in 
Japan,  and  deserves  its  fame.  A few  miles  from  Moro- 
ran a young  man  on  horseback  came  to  meet  and  escort 
us  to  the  principal  inn,  following  the  telegraphic  in- 
structions of  the  courteous  Governor-General,  whose 
kindness  followed  us  even  on  our  retreat.  It  was  lucky 
that  he  had  done  so,  for  we  would  certainly  not  have 
secured  the  best  room  in  the  inn  otherwise,  as  the  town 
was  full  of  native  travellers  waiting  for  a chance  to 
cross  the  stormy  bay.  Half  an  hour  after  our  arrival 
the  Prefect  called  on  us,  and  again  he  called  at  half-past 
six  in  the  morning,  before  we  embarked.  It  had  been 
so  stormy  in  this  region  that  the  little  steamer  which 
usually  makes  a daily  trip  to  Mori  had  been  detained  in 
Mororan  harbor  for  three  days.  This  morning,  how- 
ever, the  captain  was  going  to  risk  it,  although  the  sea 
was  still  quite  rough.  We  were  frankly  told  that  there 

203 


204 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


was  a real  risk  of  capsizing,  but  that  the  chances  were 
in  our  favor,  and  the  captain  said  he  would  return  if  he 
found  it  too  rough  outside  where  the  bay  is  exposed  to 
the  Pacific  swell.  It  did  prove  a very  rough  trip  for 
such  a small  boat,  but  we  got  over  safely,  and  after 
landing  hired  a covered  cart  for  three  dollars  and  a half 
to  take  us  to  Hakodate. 

There  were  so  many  of  the  detained  passengers  that 
six  wagons  were  filled  beside  our  own.  We  paid  our 
driver  fifteen  cents  extra,  which,  we  were  told,  would 
secure  us  first  place  — an  advantage  in  case  the  road  is 
dusty,  which  it  did  not  happen  to  be.  But  it  was  rough 
and  jolting,  with  pebbles  and  stones  strewn  broadcast, 
and  we  drove  all  the  way  at  a furious  rate  of  speed. 
Nevertheless,  the  drivers  were  very  careful  of  their 
horses.  Every  two  hours  we  stopped  to  feed  or  water 
them.  The  strange  procedure  was  always  the  same. 
The  driver  took  a bucket  of  water  in  one  hand,  seized 
the  horse’s  tongue  with  the  other,  pulled  it  out  and  then 
dashed  the  water  into  the  mouth  to  wash  out  the  foam. 
Another  bucket  was  then  dashed  on  his  belly,  and  after 
that  the  horse  was  allowed  to  drink  and  eat.  In  the 
meantime  we  were,  of  course,  always  supplied  with  tea 
and  a tabacobon. 

Villages  now  became  more  and  more  frequent,  and 
they  seemed  to  be  inhabited  mostly  by  young  children 
carrying  younger  ones  on  their  backs.  One  of  the 
roadside  curiosities  was  a man  whose  costume  consisted 
of  a loin  cloth  and  a pair  of  high  foreign  boots  reaching 
to  his  knees.  All  the  house  fronts  were,  of  course, 
open,  and  the  women  engaged  in  cooking  or  other 
domestic  employments  were  usually  naked  down  to  the 
waist.  The  number  of  dogs  in  the  streets  were  legion, 


FROM  MORORAN  TO  HAKODATE 


205 


and  almost  always  they  lay  right  in  the  middle  of  the 
road,  refusing  to  get  out  of  the  way  till  our  horses  were 
within  a yard  of  them.  If  they  had  calculated  that  the 
hoofs  and  wheels  would  miss  them  by  an  inch  or  two, 
they  refused  to  stir  at  all,  lazily  continuing  their  siesta. 
The  driver,  like  the  kuruma  pullers,  made  allowance 
for  this  canine  peculiarity,  and  tried  to  steer  clear  of 
them.  Lucky  dogs,  to  live  in  a Buddhist  country! 
“ Christian  ” drivers  would  either  have  lashed  them 
with  their  whips  or  paid  no  more  attention  to  them 
than  to  sticks  and  pebbles.  But  the  Japanese  are  not 
all  imbued  with  Buddhistic  kindness  to  animals:  we 
met  peasants  who  were  cruelly  carrying  large,  fat,  living 
ducks  by  the  neck.  However,  what  is  that  compared 
with  the  cruelty  of  Christian  gourmets,  for  whom  geese 
are  tortured  by  overfeeding  till  their  diseased  livers  swell 
to  the  size  required  for  a first-class  pate  de  foie  gras  ? 

Each  of  the  seven  drivers  in  our  procession  had  a 
posthorn  on  which  he  sounded  a loud,  long  tone  on 
the  slightest  provocation,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
child  who  has  just  received  his  first  penny  trumpet. 
Not  only  whenever  we  entered  a village,  or  neared  a 
curve  in  the  road,  did  the  horn  wake  the  echoes,  but 
every  time  we  saw  a loaded  peasant  dray  in  the  distance 
(to  give  it  time  to  make  room  for  us),  or  even  when  a 
man  was  seen  coming  up  the  road.  Whether  from  a 
desire  to  emulate  the  dogs,  or  a wish  to  tease  the  drivers, 
these  pedestrians  never  turned  aside  till  the  very  last 
moment.  It  was  well  to  have  such  things  to  amuse  us, 
for,  apart  from  a pretty  lake  with  an  island  that  had  a 
building  on  it,  there  was  nothing  of  interest  to  see  on 
this  part  of  the  road,  the  forest  itself  being  commonplace 
after  the  wilder  scenes  on  the  way  to  Kamikawa. 


206 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


The  scattering  interminable  suburbs  of  Hakodate 
made  me  impatient;  for  to  get  back  to  this  place 
seemed  almost  like  coming  home.  At  any  rate,  I ex- 
pected to  get  my  first  mail  in  three  weeks,  and  did  find 
it  waiting  for  me  at  the  office  of  Mr.  Id.  V.  Henson,  who 
represents  a branch  of  the  Yokohama  bank,  on  which  I 
had  a letter  of  credit.  Mr.  Henson  contributed  the 
articles  on  trade  and  shipping  to  Chamberlain’s  ency- 
clopedic, and  yet  so  entertaining  Things  Japanese.  I 
found  it  unnecessary  to  draw  much  money  ; indeed,  al- 
though 1 had  taken  only  $150  with  me  on  leaving 
Tokyo,  I discovered  that  I had  almost  enough  left  to 
take  us  back.  However,  I took  a small  extra  sum  to 
guard  against  accidents  — luckily,  as  the  sequel  will 
show.  I told  Mr.  Henson  that  our  trip  to  Kamikawa 
and  back  had  cost  me  only  $65,  or  $8  a day  for  two 
men,  including  all  expenses  for  horses,  wagons,  guides, 
beer,  and  the  best  available  inn  accommodations.  He 
replied  that  he  was  not  surprised  : “ It  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  spend  much  money  in  Yezo  unless  you  drink 
poor  champagne.” 

We  had  to  spend  another  day  in  Hakodate,  as  our 
steamer  was  delayed.  In  the  afternoon  we  took  a ride 
to  the  Sulphur  Springs,  a few  miles  from  the  city. 
We  met  many  foreigners,  some  on  foot,  some  in  kuru- 
mas,  bearing  out  Mr.  Henson’s  statement  that,  while 
Hakodate  had  only  sixteen  resident  foreign  families, 
there  were  many  transient  visitors  in  summer.  The 
Japanese  passion  for  bathing  in  water  heated  by  vol- 
canic forces  of  nature  is  shared  by  foreigners,  and 
most  of  those  we  met  were  coming  from  these  springs, 
where  we  found  that  things  are  done  in  mixed  style, 
the  semi-communism  of  our  Turkish  baths  being  modi- 


FROM  MORORAN  TO  HAKODATE 


207 


fieci  by  certain  Japanese  features.  First  you  take  a 
room,  and  a young  girl  serves  tea,  cakes,  and  a tabacobon. 
Then  she  brings  a clean  kimono,  in  which,  after  leaving 
your  own  clothes,  you  accompany  her  to  the  general 
room,  where  she  abandons  you  to  do  as  others  do. 
There  are  two  tanks  of  different  temperature,  into 
which  hot  sulphur  water  flows  constantly.  You  drop 
your  kimono  and  jump  first  into  the  tepid  tank,  then 
into  the  hot  one,  staying  as  long  as  you  choose.  There 
are  no  Japanese  in  this  common  room,  but  ever  and 
anon  one  of  the  foreigners  claps  his  hands,  and  in  comes 
a pretty,  smiling  maiden  to  bring  a towel,  sponge,  or 
whatever  else  is  wanted,  or  to  help  in  rubbing  a bather 
down,  utterly  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  her  presence 
might  embarrass  any  fastidious  person  in  Adam’s  cos- 
tume. For  all  these  luxuries  the  charge  is  ten  cents, 
which  Mr.  Yabi  thought  was  very  high,  and  so  it  was, 
perhaps,  when  you  think  that  in  Tokyo  a communal  bath 
costs  only  a cent,  not  including,  of  course,  kimono, 
towel,  and  tea. 

Returning  to  the  city,  we  asked  our  host  for  the  latest 
Tokyo  papers  (one  of  which,  at  least,  appears  to  be  on 
file  at  every  tea  house),  and  Mr.  Yabi  read  the  cholera 
news.  We  heard  for  the  first  time  of  the  ill-fated 
Turkish  man-of-war  Ertogroul,  on  which  there  had  been 
thirty  or  forty  cases  of  cholera.  It  was  said  that  the 
corpse  of  the  first  victim  had  been  thrown  overboard  in 
the  Bay  of  Tokyo,  in  consequence  of  which  the  natives 
were  afraid  for  some  time  to  eat  fish  caught  in  the  bay. 
The  Ertogroul  afterwards  foundered  in  a typhoon,  when 
all  on  board,  including  Osman  Pasha,  were  drowned. 


THROUGH  MEDIAEVAL  JAPAN 


BEAR  CUB MELONS ROOFS FROM  RAILWAY  TO  KURUMA 

EARLY  MORNING  SCENES RAVAGES  OF  THE  STORM 

CHANGEABLE  RIVERS  AND  COOLIES SILKWORMS FOR- 
EIGNERS AS  A CURIOSITY A REMARKABLE  RUNNER 

TYPES  OF  FEMALE  BEAUTY DITCHES  AND  DEATHS 

RAINY  JAPAN HOW  COOLIES  EAT BABIES  AND  PICKLES 

NAKED  AND  NOT  ASHAMED AN  EXCITING  FERRY 

It  is  said  that  the  island  of  Yezo  is  never  visited  by 
typhoons.  When  we  had  that  cloudy  sky  and  harm- 
less rainstorm  in  the  virgin  forest,  we  did  not  dream 
that  Yokohama  was  being  visited  by  a genuine  typhoon. 
It  was  this  that  had  delayed  our  steamer  a day.  It 
happened  to  be  the  same  Wakanoura  that  had  brought 
us,  and  we  greeted  the  officers  as  old  friends.  Poor 
Mr.  Yabi  was  again  seasick  all  the  way  to  Oginokama, 
although  the  ocean  was  now  like  a placid  lake.  Some 
of  the  precipitous  coast  scenery  again  reminded  me  of 
Santa  Catalina  Island  as  approached  from  the  California 
coast.  I whiled  away  an  hour  on  deck  playing  with  a 
Yezo  bear  cub  and  feeding  him  apples.  He  was  chained 
near  a tub  of  cold  water,  and  did  not  in  the  least  share 
the  aversion  to  bathing  of  his  enemies,  the  Ainos.  On 
an  exploring  tour  of  the  steamer,  in  company  with  the 
first  engineer,  I came  upon  the  Chinese  cooks  and 
waiters,  taking  their  lunch.  Strange  to  relate,  the^ 
used  knives  and  forks  instead  of  chopsticks. 

208 


THROUGH  MEDIAEVAL  JAPAN 


209 


At  Oginokaina  we  were  received  by  the  same  bevy  of 
tea  girls,  who  again  seized  our  valises  and  escorted  us 
to  the  inn,  where  we  were  to  wait  for  the  small  boat  to 
take  us  to  the  Sendai  harbor.  After  we  had  had  some 
tea,  the  girl  brought  in  a dozen  pealed  slices  of  a kind 
of  muskmelon.  Mr.  Yabi,  still  pale  from  seasickness, 
at  once  pitched  into  them,  although  I warned  him  that 
in  view  of  our  further  trip  on  a small  steamer  he  could 
not  very  well  eat  anything  more  inclined  to  make  his 
stomach  rebel.  But  he  ate  a few  slices  all  the  same. 
I tried  a piece  too.  For  a wonder,  it  was  quite  ripe, 
and  as  mealy  as  a good  potato ; but  although  it  was 
slightly  sweet,  there  was  hardly  a suspicion  of  the 
melon  flavor.  Yet  the  Japanese  love  their  melons 
dearly — almost  as  much  as  their  cucumbers.  The  first 
officer  of  the  Wakanoura  told  me  a story  of  a coolie 
whom  he  once  saw  sitting  on  the  edge  of  a brook  which 
ran  through  a village  and  received  part  of  its  sewage. 
He  was  eating  a large  cucumber,  skin,  bones,  and  all, 
without  even  salt,  just  as  we  eat  an  apple,  and  when  he 
had  finished  he  lay  down  and  took  a long  drink  from 
the  brook.  This  was  during  a cholera  epidemic.  No 
wonder  that  in  1893,  the  deaths  in  Japan  from  cholera, 
typhoid,  typhus,  diphtheria,  and  dysentery  numbered 
more  than  a quarter  of  a million,  — 250,250. 

Leaving  my  friend  to  enjoy  his  tasteless  melons, 
I occupied  myself  studying  the  roofs  below  us.  Our 
room  was  on  the  third  story,  a rarity  in  this  country, 
where  most  houses  have  only  one  story,  and  very  few 
as  many  as  two.  In  describing  the  aspect  of  Hakodate 
as  seen  from  the  top  of  the  hill,  I referred  to  the  monot- 
onous aspect  of  Japanese  towns.  This  monotony,  as 
I now  saw,  disappears  partly  on  a nearer  view.  Indeed, 


210 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


it  seemed  as  if  each  roof  had  its  individual  peculiarities 
of  material  and  form.  One  was  made  of  tiles,  another 
of  shingles,  a third  of  straw  and  mats.  Some  mat 
roofs  were  held  down  by  large  stones,  others  had  soil 
on  them  covered  with  moss  or  other  vegetation  to  pre- 
vent the  rains  from  washing  it  away.  The  roof  is  the 
most  picturesque  and  varied  part  of  a Japanese  house, 
architecture  otherwise  being  an  art  in  which  this  nation 
does  not  excel  — a circumstance  for  which  the  frequent 
earthquakes  and  fires  are  doubtless  responsible ; for  it 
seems  hardly  worth  while  to  expend  much  money  and 
artistic  labor  on  a building  which  may  be  tumbled  over 
or  burned  up  in  a few  weeks. 

The  captain  of  the  small  steamer  that  took  us  to  the 
harbor  of  Sendai  gave  us  the  startling  information  that 
the  recent  storm  had  destroyed  almost  a hundred  miles 
of  the  railway  track  between  Sendai  and  Tokyo.  This 
news  was  confirmed  at  the  Sendai  inn,  where  we  were 
told  that  the  only  way  to  proceed  would  be  to  take 
kurumas  for  twenty -nine  miles,  then  an  uninjured  por- 
tion of  the  railway  for  twenty-six  miles,  followed  by 
another  forty  miles  by  kuruma.  Here  was  a pleasant 
prospect  of  having  the  number  of  hours  we  expected 
to  devote  to  the  rest  of  our  journey  converted  into 
as  many  days ! At  first  I was  annoyed,  but  after  a 
moment’s  reflection  it  occurred  to  me  that  a luckier 
accident  could  not  have  happened  to  us.  Our  destina- 
tion was  not  Tokyd,  but  Nikko,  which,  with  its  temples, 
lakes,  and  waterfalls,  is  considered  the  scenic  paradise 
of  Japan.  After  seeing  Nikko,  my  plan  was  to  take 
kurumas,  leave  the  beaten  tourist  tracks,  and  devote 
a few  days  to  exploring  regions  where  foreigners  had, 
if  possible,  never  been  seen,  and  everything  was  still 


THROUGH  MEDIEVAL  JAPAN 


211 


mediae val.  The  interruption  of  our  railroad  journey 
made  it  necessary  to  reverse  these  plans  — to  take  the 
“ mediaeval  ” trip  before  seeing  Nikko ; that  was  all. 
Accordingly  I accepted  the  typhoon  and  its  conse- 
quences with  true  Asiatic  composure. 

In  order  to  make  connection  Avith  the  train  after  our 
twenty-nine  mile  ride  we  had  to  start  as  early  as  3.30, 
after  a breakfast  consisting  of  two  kinds  of  soup  and 
eggs,  my  companion  taking  his  eggs  raw  on  the  hot 
rice.  We  each  had  two  runners,  and  when  we  left  the 
inn,  it  was  still  so  dark  that  they  had  to  use  their  paper 
lanterns.  It  took  us  about  twenty  minutes  to  get  clear 
of  the  streets  of  Sendai,  which  were  all  neat  and  clean, 
and  of  course  deserted  at  this  hour,  although  we  passed 
a few  stragglers  and  some  policemen  with  small  lanterns. 
J ust  outside  the  city  limits  we  had  to  cross  a rapid  river 
on  a rope  ferry.  Half  an  hour  later  we  came  upon  the 
first  traces  of  the  storm.  There  was  a second,  larger 
river,  divided  by  sandbanks  into  several  beds.  A fine 
bridge  stretched  intact  acToss  the  main  current,  but  the 
approaches  to  it  had  been  completely  demolished  and 
carried  away  by  the  raging  current  which  a few  days 
before  had  rushed  down  two  of  the  channels  which  were 
now  dry.  We  had  to  use  a ladder  to  get  down  to  the 
level  of  the  river,  across  Avhich  we  were  then  ferried, 
the  charge  for  the  whole  crowd  — six  men  and  two 
kurumas  — being  twelve  cents,  which  really  included 
two  ferriages,  as  the  river’s  third  channel  also  had  to 
be  crossed  on  a boat.  There  was  no  rope  to  hold  on 
to  ; the  ferryman  simply  pushed  the  boat  into  the  strong 
current  and  steered  it  across  with  a long  pole. 

That  we  had  plunged  into  the  midst  of  Mediaeval 
Japan  was  plainly  manifest  when  twilight  brightened 


212 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


into  day.  We  passed  through  several  villages  the 
inhabitants  of  which  had  just  pushed  aside  the  wooden 
amado  of  their  houses,  before  completing  their  toilet  — 
which  was  perhaps  not  surprising  since  the  full  dress  of 
the  men  consisted  in  most  cases  of  a loin  cloth,  and  that 
of  the  women  of  a short  skirt  reaching  from  the  waist  to 
the  knees.  Some  made  their  toilet  in  the  house,  while 
others  preferred  to  wash  themselves  in  the  river  or  the 
town  ditch. 

The  ravages  of  the  storm  became  more  and  more 
evident  as  we  rode  through  a long  alley  of  cryptomerias 
— stately  pines,  whose  twisted  red  branches  overarched 
the  shaded  road.  To  the  left,  for  miles  and  miles,  the 
fields  were  completely  ruined,  forming  a large  morass 
of  mire,  with  the  water  still  stagnant  in  the  furrows 
it  had  ploughed.  The  gloomy  effect  of  this  devas- 
tation was  heightened  by  contrast  with  the  smiling 
fields  to  the  right,  which,  having  been  protected  by  the 
elevated  road  and  its  double  line  of  firmly  rooted  trees, 
were  left  standing  in  all  their  green  beauty  ~ Presently 
we  came  upon  the  cause  of  all  this  ruin  — a wide  river 
with  very  low  banks,  which  had  not  been  able  to  hold 
the  waters  precipitated  by  the  storm  clouds.  Mr.  Yabi 
remarked  that  these  sudden  inundations  were  the  great- 
est curse  of  Japan,  devastating  large  regions  every  sum- 
mer and  carrying  off  the  laboriously  prepared  soil.  If 
the  reader  has  ever  seen  a large  field  green  on  one 
autumn  day  with  potatoes,  corn,  or  tomatoes,  and  again 
on  the  next  day,  after  a blighting,  withering  frost  had 
done  its  work,  he  will  have  some  conception  of  this 
Japanese  devastation,  minus  the  mire. 

Some  of  the  streams  we  crossed  were  gentle  and  placid 
enough  now,  but  a few  days  before  none  but  the  costli- 


THROUGH  MEDIAEVAL  JAPAN 


213 


est  stone  railway  bridges  could  have  withstood  the  vio- 
lence of  their  current.  In  some  places  the  overflowing 
rivers  had  created  a new  sand  bed  a quarter  of  a mile 
wide,  strewn  with  trees  and  shrubs  rudely  torn  from 
the  undermined  soil  and  now  piled  pell  mell  in  their 
own  funeral  pyres.  To  watch  one  of  these  inundations 
from  the  top  of  one  of  the  green  hills  looking  down  upon 
these  valleys,  must  be  a saddening  but  sublime  spectacle. 

The  mountains  whose  green  sloping  sides  had  poured 
these  devastating  waters  into  the  overflowing  river 
beds,  became  gradually  higher  and  the  air  more  brac- 
ing ; yet  it  still  breathed  a certain  Asiatic  languor. 
Indeed,  during  my  whole  sojourn  in  mountainous 
Japan  I did  not  once  find  the  exhilarating  air  of  the 
Swiss  or  Californian  Alps,  every  inhalation  of  which  is 
a conscious  pleasure,  like  breathing  the  fragrance  of  a 
flower.  I was  told,  however,  that  such  bracing  air  may 
be  breathed  here  on  sunny  October  days.  And  I had 
discovered  this  morning  that  in  Japan,  as  elsewhere,  the 
most  exhilarating  air  is  that  of  the  hour  before  sunrise 
— an  hour  which  we,  with  our  stupid  late  hours,  always 
sacrifice  to  sleep. 

In  this  region  almost  the  whole  population  seemed  to 
devote  its  time  to  the  silkworm,  its  products,  and  its 
food.  In  some  of  the  villages  a basket  of  white  cocoons 
was  placed  in  front  of  nearly  every  house,  and  most  of 
the  fields  were  green  with  the  luxuriant  young  mul- 
berry shoots.  In  this  case  the  Japanese  do  not  try  to 
“ get  ahead  of  the  worm,”  but  sacrifice  the  whole  tree 
to  him.  Surely  they  must  know  how  deliciously  sour 
the  unripe  mulberry  is,  and  how  luscious  the  ripe  black 
berry  ; but  I believe  they  cultivate  chiefly  the  white 
variety,  which  is  insipid. 


214 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Nowhere  in  Japan  had  I been  so  much  on  exhibition 
as  on  this  trip.  To  the  children,  especially,  the  appari- 
tion of  a foreigner  in  a kuruma  was  as  good  as  a circus. 
My  runners  had  orders  to  pass  very  slowly  through  the 
villages,  so  as  to  give  me  time  to  see  all  the  sights. 
The  children  seemed  to  have  secret  signals  announcing 
my  arrival ; for  no  sooner  had  I entered  a street,  when 
from  every  house  and  side  alley  boys  and  girls  swarmed 
out,  most  of  them  stark  naked,  and  formed  into  two 
staring,  smiling  lines,  through  which  I had  to  pass. 
Most  of  them  probably  had  never  seen  a foreigner. 
Mr.  Yabi  was  amused,  and  suggested  that  if  I would 
let  him  put  me  in  a cage  and  charge  a few  cents  a peep, 
he  would  soon  have  money  enough  to  start  his  maga- 
zine. The  curiosity  of  both  adults  and  children  was  so 
genuine  and  naive  that  there  was  nothing  rude  in  it; 
and  although  many  of  them  doubtless  considered  me 
an  absurd  sort  of  an  animal,  there  was  never  a word  or 
look  of  ridicule.  Once,  as  I sat  on  the  verandah  of  a 
tea  house,  jotting  down  a few  notes,  a man  stopped  and 
stared  at  me  fixedly  fully  five  minutes.  I must  have 
looked  appetizing ; for  suddenly  he  put  his  hand  into 
his  wide  sleeve,  brought  out  a raw  egg,  hit  it  against 
his  teeth,  and  sucked  it  clean  at  one  draught.  At 
another  place  a young  fellow  who  had  just  missed  us, 
ran  ahead  about  twenty  feet,  then  turned  and  had  a 
good  look  at  me.  I envied  him  his  rare  good  luck. 

At  Shiraisi  we  had  expected  to  take  the  train,  but 
found  that  we  must  go  on  twelve  miles  farther.  I was 
sorry  not  to  be  able  to  stop  a few  hours  at  this  place, 
which  is  beautifully  situated  amid  the  mountains ; we 
lingered  for  lunch  in  a cool  and  airy  corner  room.  As 
we  bowled  down  the  street  again,  we  passed  two  men 


THROUGH  MEDIEVAL  JAPAN 


215 


with  large  bundles  of  papers  on  their  backs,  crying  some- 
thing for  sale.  I asked  Mr.  Yabi  what  it  all  meant, 
and  he  replied  that  they  were  newsmen,  and  that  the 
bundles  on  their  backs  were  newspapers,  the  contents 
of  which  (sketches  of  prominent  politicians,  etc.)  they 
were  proclaiming  in  loud,  monotonous  tones.  We  had 
again  exchanged  runners  — all  but  one  who  actually 
came  through  with  us  all  the  way  from  Sendai  to  Kori, 
trotting  before  my  kuruma  from  3.30  a.m.  till  4.15 
P.M.,  — forty -two  miles  with  less  than  two  hours’  rest ! 
Much  of  our  road  had  been  up  and  down  hill,  and  after 
noon  the  sun  was  so  warm  that  I felt  uncomfortable 
even  on  the  kuruma  and  under  my  umbrella.  The 
physical  endurance  of  these  fellows  is  certainly  remark- 
able ; nor  do  they  ever  complain,  as  long  as  they  can 
have  an  occasional  cup  of  tea  and  bowl  of  rice,  a blue 
towel  on  the  arm  for  wiping  off  the  perspiration,  and  a 
bucket  of  cold  well  water  to  dash  over  their  bodies  on 
arriving  at  an  inn.  How  they  can  do  such  hard  work 
on  such  light  fare  is  an  Oriental  mystery.  It  is  an  odd 
and  interesting  experience  to  ride  twelve  hours  behind 
one  of  these  finely  built  fellows,  watching  the  play  of 
the  muscles  in  his  naked  thighs  and  the  odd  bobbing 
up  and  down  of  his  bare  shoulders  and  large  white 
mushroom  hat  — a sight  which  continues  to  haunt  one 
in  dreams  and  awake  for  months  afterwards. 

At  Kori  we  were  at  last  able  to  board  the  train.  The 
first  thing  I saw  in  the  car  was  a notice  in  large  Japa- 
nese writing.  I asked  my  friend  to  translate  it,  and 
found  that  it  was  to  the  effect  that  if  any  passenger 
was  suddenly  seized  with  symptoms  of  cholera,  he 
should  at  once  notify  the  conductor.  Obviously  the 
dreaded  microbes  had  made  their  way  north  beyond 


216 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Tokyo  during  our  trip  in  Yezo.  Mr.  Yabi  had  secured 
the  last  number  of  a newspaper  published  at  Fuku- 
shima  (where  we  were  to  spend  the  night),  containing 
an  account  of  the  death  of  a prominent  politician  living 
there.  He  had  gone  to  Tokyo  to  attend  a political  meet- 
ing, was  suddenly  taken  ill,  got  into  a kuruma  headed 
for  a doctor’s  house,  but  died  before  he  could  reach  it. 

Near  the  station  at  Fukushima  we  passed  several  tea 
houses,  whose  pleasing  exterior  and  brilliant  illumina- 
tion showed  that  they  were  the  abode  of  frivolous 
geishas.  As  we  had  no  desire  to  spend  the  night  flirting 
with  singing  girls  or  being  kept  awake  till  dawn  by 
samisen  and  drums  played  for  the  amusement  of  other 
guests,  we  gave  these  the  cold  shoulder  and  sought  out 
a more  humble  but  respectable  and  quiet  inn.  Its 
exterior  was  not  inviting,  but  in  Japan  you  must  never 
judge  a house  by  its  exterior,  as  the  plainest  shanty 
often  has  a beautiful  garden  in  the  rear,  with  clean,  airy 
rooms  facing  it.  We  chose  our  room  on  the  second 
story,  which  is  always  preferable  to  the  first.  Here  we 
were  secure  from  all  noises  except  the  melancholy  noc- 
turnal whistling  of  the  blind  sliampooers  and  the  distant 
rumble  of  the  geisha  drums.  For  supper  we  had  a dish 
of  small  eels  raised  in  the  irrigated  rice  fields.  They 
are  killed  by  being  transferred  from  this  rice  water  to 
rice  wine,  which  gives  them  a delicate  flavor  and  softens 
the  bones ; whereupon  they  are  eaten  entire,  like  our 
whitebait.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  cholera,  I would 
have  tried  some  of  the  oysters,  which  Mr.  Yabi  said 
were  abundant  here,  costing  only  five  cents  a bowl. 
He  added  that  his  countr}rmen  did  not  care  much  for 
them,  whereas  eels  were  a great  national  delicacy,  being 
favored  by  them  very  much  as  oysters  are  by  us.  A 


THROUGH  MEDIAEVAL  JAPAN 


217 


gastronomic  surprise  at  this  inn  was  fried  chrysanthe- 
mum leaves,  green  on  one  side,  with  batter  on  the  other. 

The  kuruma  man  who  had  helped  to  pull  me  forty- 
two  miles  on  the  preceding  day  had  begged  permission 
to  follow  us  on  the  train  and  be  one  of  our  pullers  on 
the  second  day.  He  was  anxious  to  go  to  Tokyo,  and 
could  not  afford  to  go  in  any  other  way.  He  was  a fine, 
healthy,  courteous  fellow,  and  we  gladly  accepted  his 
offer,  which  was  a convenience  to  both  sides.  He  played 
the  role  of  valet,  taking  care  of  our  baggage,  tying  up 
our  shoes,  and  doing  errands. 

As  we  proceeded,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  women 
were  gradually  becoming  better  looking  and  better 
formed.  The  monotonous  national  style  of  dressing 
the  hair  gives  Japanese  women  an  illusory  resemblance ; 
in  reality  there  are  as  many  types  as  in  other  countries. 
In  the  car  which  took  us  to  Fukushima  there  was  a 
well-dressed  young  lady  whose  beauty  would  have  been 
almost  perfect  from  our  point  of  view,  had  not  her  lips 
been  a little  too  thick.  And  now  as  we  were  riding 
along  toward  Nikko,  I was  pleasantly  startled  by  meet- 
ing a young  girl  who  had  the  loveliest  Italian  Madonna 
face,  exquisitely  refined.  She  had  the  complexion  of 
a city  belle.  We  also  saw  plenty  of  country  girls  with 
big  arms  and  legs,  large  busts,  full,  rosy  faces,  like  the 
most  buxom  rustic  women  of  England  or  Germany. 
Japanese  artists  do  not  admire  the  plump  rustic  type 
of  beauty,  even  in  cases  which  would  win  our  approval. 
Mr.  Yabi  spoke  rather  contemptuously  of  the  mental 
endowments  of  these  country  women.  Many  of  them, 
he  said,  are  so  stupid  that  they  cannot  give  the  simplest 
directions,  and  if  you  ask  them  a question,  they  always 
“ don’t  know.” 


218 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


We  had  again  started  very  early,  and  once  more 
I received  the  impression  that  teeth  brushing  is  the 
universal  occupation  of  the  Japanese  from  five  to  seven 
o’clock.  Everywhere  men  and  women  were  sitting  by 
the  gutters,  dipping  their  brushes  into  the  dubious 
communistic  water,  a habit  which  perhaps  accounts  for 
the  length  of  the  brush  handles.  One  man  walked 
calmly  down  a village  street,  vigorously  cleaning  his 
teeth  with  a brush  that  had  a handle  fifteen  inches 
long.  On  being  accosted  by  a friend,  he  replied  with- 
out removing  the  brush  from  his  mouth.  In  one  case 
we  followed  a ditch  into  which  we  had  seen  a number 
of  persons  dip  their  brushes,  and  traced  it  to  the  rice 
fields,  which  are  always  manured  by  the  village  sewage. 
Thus  a single  case  of  typhoid,  dysentery,  or  cholera  may 
poison  the  water  for  a whole  village  and  cause  hundreds 
of  deaths.  In  the  years  1878  to  1891  six  successive 
cholera  epidemics  killed  818,000  Japanese.  Dr.  Eris- 
mann  of  Moscow  says  that  forty  per  cent  of  all  human 
beings  die  prematurely  of  preventable  infectious  dis- 
eases. If  that  were  generally  known,  the  canvas- 
covered  melon  stands  we  passed  along  the  road  would 
probably  not  have  quite  such  large  piles  of  rinds  heaped 
all  about  them  during  cholera  time. 

Effects  of  the  rain  storm  were  still  visible  on  all  sides. 
In  some  places  the  rivers  had  drawn  their  own  high- 
water  mark  by  depositing  belts  of  leaves  and  mud- 
covered  shrubs  ten  feet  above  their  beds.  The  numerous 
lotos  ponds  had  been  filled  to  overflowing,  to  the  obvious 
delight  of  their  pink  blossoms  and  large  thirsty  umbrella 
leaves.  The  mountain  sides  had  all  the  dust  washed 
off  their  tree  mantles  and  looked  bright  green  and 
happy.  These  mountains  were  all  in  the  real  Japa- 


THROUGH  MEDIAEVAL  JAPAN 


219 


nese  style  — small,  pleasing,  feminine.  True,  there  are 
also  mountains  representing  the  martial,  rough,  mascu- 
line character  of  historic  Japan ; but  these  we  did  not 
see  till  later.  A unique  and  picturesque  feature  of  the 
scenery  was  the  regular  recurrence,  about  half  a mile 
apart,  of  small  villages,  or  groups  of  from  three  to  a 
dozen  houses,  nestling  at  the  base  of  the  foothills,  partly 
concealed  by  the  trees  and  bamboos. 

We  got  up  among  the  clouds,  or  rather,  the  clouds 
came  down  to  us,  and  gave  us  a few  harmless  sprin- 
klings. August  is  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  fine  months 
in  Japan,  and  so  it  is  except  when  it  is  rainy  — an 
exception  which  seems  to  be  chronic.  Oregonians 
are  called  “ web  feet  ” by  the  sun-baked  Calif ornians> 
because  Portland  has  fifty  inches  of  rain  a year. 
Japan  has  sixty.  If  all  of  this  came  down  at  once, 
the  surface  of  these  4000  islands  would  be  five  feet 
under  water.  Sometimes  it  seems  as  if  it  did  try  to 
come  down  all  at  once. 

Although  there  was  water,  water  everywhere,  and 
Yabi  and  the  runners  had  their  tea  every  hour  or  two, 
I had  not  a drop  to  drink  till  we  came  to  the  inn  where 
we  lunched.  I made  up  for  lost  time  by  drinking  two 
bottles  of  beer,  with  but  slender  assistance  from  my 
friend,  who  did  not  care  much  for  that  bitter  beverage. 
I was  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  get  any  more  of  the  Sap- 
poro beer,  which  I had  found  much  better  and  more 
Germanic  than  the  products  of  Toky5  and  Yokohama 
breweries  ; although  I was  glad  enough  to  find  that  the 
latter  are  now  to  be  found  in  every  Japanese  village,  at 
a price  varying  from  twenty-two  to  thirty  cents  per 
quart  bottle.  The  charges  for  this  lunch  were  ninety- 
one  cents,  of  which  sixty  were  for  the  beer  and  only 


220 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


thirty-one  for  the  food  for  two  persons,  consisting  of 
two  soups,  roast  duck,  rice,  and  five  boiled  eggs  ! I 
asked  Mr.  Yabi  how  much  the  five  eggs  alone  would 
have  cost,  and  he  replied,  after  consulting  the  bill, 
“ Eight  cents  ! ” Obviously,  if  these  people  are  mediae- 
val, their  prices  are  mediaeval  too.  As  usual,  the  host 
gave  us  a letter  commending  us  to  the  next  inn,  and 
after  we  had  duly  paid  our  bill  and  a trifle  extra  for 
“ tea  money  ” we  were  presented  with  the  customary 
fans  to  take  along  as  a souvenir.  At  one  roadside  inn 
we  received,  in  place  of  fans,  a plate  of  small  apples, 
somewhat  like  Siberian  crab  apples  in  flavor. 

While  waiting  for  our  more  elaborate  meals  to  be 
cooked,  I often  amused  myself  watching  our  runners 
disposing  of  their  frugal  lunches  — usually  rice  and 
pickles,  the  pasty  rice  being  moistened  with  water  or 
tea  if  the  pickles  were  not  rasping  enough  to  whet  the 
salivary  glands.  They  generally  eat  standing  in  front 
of  the  inn,  and  having  no  table,  one  could  hardly  expect 
them  to  have  table  manners.  They  use  their  chop- 
sticks, not  with  the  dainty  grace  of  their  superiors,  but 
simply  to  shovel  in  the  rice,  in  big  lumps,  the  bowl 
being  held  close  to  the  mouth.  Nor  do  they  monkey 
with  microscopic  teacups,  but  drink  their  tea,  at  the 
close  of  a meal,  out  of  their  large  rice  bowls.  But  the 
most  remarkable  gastronomic  sight  in  Japan  is  seen 
when  one  of  the  coolies  invites  his  children  to  eat  with 
him.  It  is  amusing  to  see  a child  of  two  or  three  years 
take  up  its  chopsticks  and  boldly  tackle  a pickle  as  big 
as  a banana. 

Toward  evening  all  the  villages  we  passed  through 
seemed  to  be  on  fire,  for  a dense  smoke  was  pouring  out 
pf  the  open  sides  of  the  houses.  But  it  was  simply  the 


THROUGH  MEDIAEVAL  JAPAN 


221 


smoke  from  the  kitchen  fires  seeking  an  easy  vent  in 
the  absence  of  stoves  and  chimneys.  Kindling  wood  is 
much  used  here  for  cooking,  but  for  warming  the  fingers 
the  smokeless  charcoal  in  the  hibachi  is  preferred.  The 
sight  of  all  these  gastronomic  preparations  sharpened 
my  appetite,  and  I was  glad  when  Mr.  Yabi  called  to 
me  from  his  kuruma  that  we  were  now  entering  Shira- 
kawa,  where  we  were  to  spend  our  second  night.  In 
one  respect,  the  inn  we  put  up  at  was  the  best  I had 
seen  in  Japan.  Our  bedquilts  were  of  silk  — soft, 
light,  and  clean  — a great  improvement  on  the  coarse, 
heavy  futon  that  had  hitherto  crushed  and  smothered 
us.  This  one  experience  taught  me  that  it  is  as  foolish 
to  generalize  from  one’s  experience  in  inns  as  to  the 
bedding  of  the  better-class  Japanese,  as  it  would  be  to 
infer  the  quality  of  the  average  American  bed  from  the 
coarse  horse  blankets  given  to  the  occupants  of  the 
expensive  rat-holes  in  our  Pullman  sleeping  cars. 

When  supper  was  served,  the  waiting  maid  placed  a 
mud-colored  liquid  before  us,  in  a large  cup,  looking 
at  me  with  a pleased  smile,  as  if  to  say,  “ There,  I am 
sure  you  will  like  that  ! ” It  had  a faint  odor  of 
coffee,  and  the  girl  said  it  was  coffee,  but  I could  not 
persuade  myself  to  drink  it,  even  to  please  her.  On 
inquiry,  I found  it  had  been  made  just  like  tea,  by 
simply  pouring  tolerably  hot  water  on  the  ground  coffee 
and  letting  it  stand  a minute  or  two.  The  mistake  was 
fatal,  though  not  as  distressing  as  that  made  by  a Jap- 
anese host  I have  read  about  somewhere,  who  served 
up  to  a foreign  friend,  as  a special  treat,  the  remains  of 
a bottle  of  beer  that  had  been  opened  months  before. 
Such  little  gastronomic  solecisms  do  not  disturb  an  ex- 
perienced traveller. 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


222 


Japan  has  been  called  the  travellers’  paradise,  and 
after  supper  I beheld  a scene  which  certainly  suggested 
the  garden  of  Eden,  from  one  point  of  view.  Two 
young  ladies  walked  across  the  verandah  opposite 
our  room  fresh  from  the  hot  bath.  They  were  naked 
and  not  ashamed,  their  dusky  skins  suffused  with  a 
pink  flush.  It  takes  the  Occidental  mind  some  time 
to  get  over  the  surprise  of  seeing  respectable  women 
so  indifferent  to  what  we  consider  propriety.  Yet 
these  women  would  have  been  shocked  to  see  an 
American  girl  in  a decollete  dress  dancing  a waltz 
with  a young  man. 

Next  day  we  again  made  an  early  start,  and  soon 
found  that  we  had  not  yet  got  beyond  the  ravages  of 
the  storm,  which  began  to  grow  monotonous.  Most 
of  the  streams  were  still  bridgeless,  and  my  men  had 
to  carry  our  vehicles  over  several  of  them  on  planks. 
Over  the  larger  rivers  we  had  to  be  ferried,  and  one  of 
these  ferries  presented  a wild  scene  which  I shall  never 
forget.  The  bridge  had  been  destroyed,  the  stream 
was  very  rapid,  though  shallow,  and  the  only  way  to 
get  across  was  on  a sort  of  raft,  so  frail  that  it  took  a 
dozen  coolies  to  prevent  it  from  swamping.  As  soon 
as  the  boat  was  loaded,  the  dozen  men  — strongly  built 
fellows,  stark  naked  — pushed  it  into  the  current,  which 
seized  and  whirled  it  across  in  ten  seconds  to  where  the 
water  was  again  shallow,  whereupon  they  took  hold 
and  pushed  it  to  the  shore.  Several  dozen  natives, 
many  of  them  with  horses,  were  there  when  we  arrived, 
and  I was  afraid  that  if  we  had  to  wait  for  our  turn  we 
should  lose  our  train.  So  I told  my  companion  to 
bribe  the  boatman  with  a piece  of  silver  and  tell  him 
that  we  were  great  dignitaries.  The  boatman  took 


THROUGH  MEDIAEVAL  JAPAN 


223 


the  silver  hint,  and  spying  me  near  the  bridge,  on  his 
next  return  trip,  he  shouted,  “ Anata  no  kuruma”  — 
“your  kurumas.”  I hastened  to  call  Mr.  Yabi  and 
our  men,  and  we  were  set  across  without  delay  or 
accident.  But  I was  sorry  that  my  camera  was  not 
loaded,  as  I would  have  given  a good  deal  for  a picture 
of  those  naked,  muscular  coolies  steering  that  crazy  raft 
across  the  wild  current. 

We  need  not  have  bribed  the  ferryman  ; for  when, 
after  a few  more  hours  of  trotting,  we  reached  the 
station  (I  forget  its  name)  where  we  were  to  board  the 
train,  we  found  that  it  was  almost  an  hour  behind  time. 
W e paid  our  coolies,  including  the  man  who  had  accom- 
panied us  all  the  way  from  Sendai,  and  I could  not  help 
wondering  at  his  cheerfulness  and  unsubdued  energy, 
after  helping  to  pull  a one-liundred-and-eighty-pound 
man  about  a hundred  miles  in  two  days  and  a half 
under  a broiling  sun. 


A PILGRIM’S  PARADISE 


A RAINY  REGION NIKKO’s  LONG  STREET OUR  SUMMER 

HOUSE PILGRIM  PROCESSIONS NATURE  AND  RELIGION 

IEYASU THE  TEMPLES ART  WORKS A SACRED 

DANCE EERNS,  MOSSES,  AND  SUN  JEWELS LOTOS 

ROOTS 

Before  we  reached  Nikko  our  train  was  washed 
clean  by  one  of  those  rain  storms  which  in  a mountain- 
ous region  convert  a placid  rivulet  into  a furious  tor- 
rent in  half  an  hour.  This  was  doubtless  to  remind  us 
that  Nikko  is  the  rainiest  spot  in  Japan  as  well  as  the 
most  beautiful.  Indeed,  much  of  its  beauty  is  a conse- 
quence of  this  rain ; for  it  takes  many  billion  drops  of 
water  to  keep  the  tumultuous  river  which  runs  through 
the  town,  and  the  thirty  waterfalls  and  cascades  which 
are  to  be  found  within  a radius  of  fifteen  miles,  tuned  up 
to  “concert  pitch.”  Nor  would  the  picturesque  moun- 
tain slopes  be  so  deep  green,  or  the  lakes  so  brimful, 
were  it  not  for  these  frequent  rains.  Waterfalls,  cas- 
cades, lakes,  trees,  ferns,  mosses,  mountains,  — these  are 
the  scenic  charms  of  this  region,  which  would  attract 
thousands  of  esthetic  pilgrims  every  summer,  even  if 
time  or  fire  should  destroy  the  famous  temples  built 
here  centuries  ago  in  honor  of  departed  heroes,  and 
considered  the  most  beautiful  and  richly  adorned  monu- 
ments in  the  Empire. 


224 


A pilgrim’s  paradise 


225 


Apart  from  the  treaty  ports,  there  is  no  town  in 
Japan  where  so  many  foreigners  are  to  be  seen  as  in 
Nikko,  many  of  them  spending  the  summer  here,  where, 
two  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  it  is  com- 
paratively cool.  One  gets  the  impression  that  all  of 
these  two  thousand  feet  are  gained  on  the  way  from  the 
railway  station  to  the  hotel  at  the  other  end  of  town. 
It  is  almost  two  miles,  all  the  way  up  hill,  along  a street 
which  seems  to  consist  chiefly  of  small  curio  and  photo- 
graph stores.  The  harsh  twang  of  the  samisew  in  many 
of  the  houses  indicates  an  abundance  of  trained  music 
girls.  W e had  been  warned  against  the  foreign  hotel, 
and  would  have  chosen  a yadoya  under  all  circum- 
stances. But  we  were  in  the  midst  of  the  pilgrim 
season,  and  the  long  processions  of  these  bipeds  we 
passed  made  us  fear  that  our  inn  would  be  crowded. 
This  proved  to  be  the  case,  but  the  landlord  said  he  had 
a new  little  building  up  on  the  hillside,  where  we  could 
dwell  in  peace  and  aristocratic  seclusion,  far  from  the 
noisy  crowd.  Needless  to  say  that  the  offer  was  ac- 
cepted. We  were  taken  up  to  a plain,  but  delightfully 
situated  little  summer  house,  overlooking  the  city  and 
the  green  mountains.  It  had  never  been  used,  and 
there  were  just  two  rooms  and  a kitchen,  so  that  we  had 
no  fear  that  others  would  be  sent  up  to  mar  our  isola- 
tion. An  old  woman  was  there  to  prepare  our  meals, 
and  a man  and  boy  to  take  care  of  us  otherwise.  We 
had  new  bedding  and  our  own  bath  tub  — a typical  out- 
fit consisting  of  a wooden  box  with  its  own  heating 
attachment,  so  that  a hot  bath  could  be  prepared  in  a 
few  minutes  by  simply  putting  in  some  burning  char- 
coal. Unlike  our  hot  baths,  these  become  hotter  the 
longer  you  stay  in  them,  as  I found  out  to  my  cost. 


226 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


More  delightful  still  than  the  private  hath  was  our 
private  spring.  Right  behind  the  cabin  a thin  stream 
of  cold  water  came  trickling  out  of  the  mountain 
side.  Here,  for  the  first  time  in  Japan,  I actually 
drank  water,  because  I saw  its  source  with  my  own 
eyes.  I frankly  admit  that  I see  no  harm  in 
drinking  water,  provided  it  is  pure.  Only  a fanati- 
cal anti-liydromaniac  would  have  refused  to  drink 
that  water. 

In  this,  cottage  we  ate  and  slept  several  days,  which 
proved  very  restful  and  cosy  after  our  fatiguing  jour- 
neys. Though  situated  several  hundred  yards  above 
the  main  street,  it  was  not  far  from  it,  so  that  we  could 
see  whatever  was  going  on  below.  Every  morning 
from  seven  to  nine  o’clock  there  Avas  an  unbroken  pro- 
cession of  pilgrims,  the  middle  of  August  being  the 
height  of  the  pilgrim  season.  Most  of  them  seemed  to 
be  young  men,  and  some  were  mere  boys.  They  were 
all  dressed  in  a white  upper  garment' and  Avhite  cotton 
drawers.  On  the  head  they  wore  large  mushroom  hats, 
and  a fringed  mat  was  generally  thrown  over  the 
shoulders,  to  serve  as  rain  cloak  or  sunshade  in  the  day 
time,  and  as  mattress  at  night.  Most  of  them  Avere  on 
foot,  Avhile  the  feAV  who  rode  on  horseback  wore  rain 
cloaks  made  of  yellow  oiled  paper.  They  looked  clean 
and  expectant  as  they  passed,  but  on  their  return,  tAvo 
days  later,  there  Avas  a lamentable  change  in  their  ap- 
pearance, their  Avhite  drawers  being  noAV  mud-colored, 
and  the  most  respectable  looking  being,  indeed,  those 
Avho  had  taken  theirs  off  entirely,  and  Avere  returning 
“barefooted  to  the  hips.”  They  Avere  dirty,  bedraggled, 
and  tired;  they  had  walked  many  miles  in  the  mud,  and 
made  the  ascent  of  the  sacred  mountain,  Nantiazan, 


A pilgrim’s  paradise 


227 


8140  feet  in  height,  with  the  aid  of  the  pilgrim  staff 
which  each  of  them  carried. 

Nikko  is  the  paradise  of  Japanese  pilgrims.  Here 
they  can  enjoy  some  of  the  finest  scenery  in  the  whole 
Empire,  and  at  the  same  time  satisfy  their  sense  of 
religious  duty.  In  Europe  and  America  it  is  only 
the  men  of  genius  and  a few  other  refined  souls  who 
really  love  nature ; but  With  the  Japanese  the  love  of 
nature  has  the  intensity  of  a passion.  The  poorest  and 
most  .ignorant  inherit  this  passion  from  generations  of 
esthetic  ancestors ; if  their  purse  is  too  slender  to  per- 
mit them  to  leave  home,  they  contribute  a few  cents  to 
a special  pilgrimage  “ pool,”  which  gives  them  at  least 
a lottery  chance  to  travel.  It  is  said  by  those  who 
know  them  well  that  their  love  of  scenery  and  travel- 
picnics  is  much  stronger  than  their  religious  ardor. 
But  the  astute  priests  have  here  as  elsewhere  contrived 
to  blend  the  esthetic  and  religious  feelings,  making  the 
one  subserve  the  other.  In  the  time  of  their  strength 
they  usurped  all  the  finest  scenic  points,  built  temples 
and  monasteries  on  them,  and  invited  the  people  to 
come  and  worship. 

That  such  a choice  site  for  combined  esthetic  and 
religious  devotion  as  Nikko  could  not  long  escape  the 
attention  of  the  priests  is  obvious.  For  more  than  a 
l thousand  years,  as  far  back  indeed  as  historic  records 
l go,  Nikko  has  had  temples,  at  first  Shintoist,  then  Bud- 
dhist, and  again,  by  Imperial  decree,  Shintoist.  But 
it  was  not  till  1616,  when  the  body  of  Ieyasu  was  trans- 
ferred to  Nikko,  that  it  became  the  goal  of  the  most 
patriotic  pilgrimages ; for  what  Pericles  is  among  the 
Greek  statesmen,  Caesar  among  Roman  generals,  Ieyasu 
is  among  the  military  rulers  of  Japan.  It  was  he  and 


228 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Iemitsu  (whose  body  also  lies  here),  the  first  and  third 
Shoguns  of  the  powerful  Tokugawa  dynasty,  that 
founded  Yeddo  (Tokyo)  and  inaugurated  the  policy  of 
isolating  Japan  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  which  lasted 
more  than  two  centuries.  Apart  from  the  mountains, 
lakes,  and  waterfalls,  it  is  the  tombs  of  Ieyasu  and 
Iemitsu,  and  the  wonderful  temples  erected  in  their 
honor,  that  attract  visitors  to  Nikko.  I have  no  inten- 
tion or  desire  to  describe  these  sacred  edifices.  No  one 
has  ever  succeeded  in  describing  them ; the  best  pen- 
pictures  make  but  a confused  impression  on  the  mind; 
and  warned  by  the  failure  of  others,  I shall  mercifully 
abstain,  mentioning  only  a few  striking  objects. 

Following  the  procession  of  pilgrims  to  the  upper 
end  of  the  street,  we  come  to  the  river  Daiyagawa, 
which  rushes  noisily  down  hill.  It  is  spanned  by  two 
bridges  not  far  apart,  on  the  lower  of  which  we  were 
allowed  to  cross,  the  upper,  the  Red  Bridge  of  legend- 
ary fame,  being  deserved  for  royalty.  This  bridge  was 
built  in  1688  on  the  spot  rendered  famous  by  an  old 
Buddhist  legend  of  Sh5dd  Shonin.  This  saint,  accord- 
ing to  a fantastic  old  memoir  summarized  by  Mr.  Satow, 
being  in  pursuit  of  four  miraculous  clouds  of  different 
colors  rising  straight  up  into  the  sky,  found  his  advance 
barred  by  a broad  river  which  poured  its  torrent  over 
huge  rocks  and  looked  utterly  impassable ; but  he  fell 
on  his  knees  and  prayed,  whereupon  there  appeared  on 
the  other  bank  a divine  being  of  colossal  size,  who  flung 
across  the  river  two  green  and  blue  snakes,  and  in 
an  instant  a long  bridge  was  seen  to  span  the  waters, 
like  a rainbow  floating  among  the  hills;  but  when  the 
saint  had  crossed  it,  both  the  god  and  the  snake  bridge 
vanished. 


A pilgrim’s  paradise 


229 


Stone  steps,  stone  lanterns,  rows  of  cryptomerias, 
granite  torii,  pebbled  floors,  carved  ceilings,  red  pago- 
das, gilded  bells,  shrines  and  tombs,  ferns  and  mosses, 
hideous  idols,  gates  adorned  with  beautiful  carvings  of 
plants  and  animals,  — elephants,  tigers,  lions,  monkeys, 
dragons,  unicorns,  birds,  — who  could  describe  all  these 
and  a hundred  other  temple  scenes  and  details  with- 
out the  aid  of  dozens  of  photographs  which  would 
make  description  superfluous  ? Especially  odd  are  the 
monkeys  calling  attention  by  their  gestures  to  their 
various  sense  organs.  These  animals  are  carved  true 
to  life,  for  Japan  produces  monkeys,  whence  we  may 
perhaps  infer  that  the  various  lions,  per  contra , are  so 
indescribably  grotesque  for  the  reason  that  no  Japanese 
sculptor  has  ever  seen  the  king  of  beasts,  except  perhaps 
in  a menagerie.  Even  more  grotesque  are  the  green 
god  of  wind  with  his  wind  bag  on  his  back,  and  the  red 
god  of  thunder  with  his  bolts ; apparently  these,  too, 
were  not  copied  from  life.  The  general  ensemble 
struck  me  as  being  Hindoo  rather  than  Japanese,  pos- 
sibly because  I have  never  been  in  India.  The  eight- 
storied pagoda  was  of  course  after  the  Chinese  model, 
but  it  had  red  Japanese  lacquer  over  it,  which  is  rather 
expensive  to  keep  in  repair,  requiring  renewal  every 
fifty  years.  It  was  worn  off  in  some  places,  and  in 
others  a red  powder  had  been  put  on  to  conceal  bald 
spots.  Our  guide  remarked  that  at  present  the  priests 
were  too  poor  to  keep  things  in  thorough  repair,  though 
the  government  lends  a helping  hand.  True,  before 
the  different  shrines  the  floor  was  covered  with  money 
offerings ; but  these  were  mostly  the  perforated  rin  of 
which  it  takes  ten  to  make  a cent.  The  Japanese  man- 
age to  live  very  economically,  and  they  seem  to  think 


280 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


that  their  gods  and  priests  can  live  more  cheaply  still 
— a notion  which  is  becoming  rather  prevalent  in  other 
parts  of  the  world. 

In  Japan  religion  and  dancing  still  go  hand  in  hand 
as  among  the  ancient  Hebrews.  In  one  of  the  temple 
courts  we  passed  a small  building  in  which  two  women 
were  kneeling,  one  young,  one  old,  both  dressed  in 
white.  You  “drop  a nickel  in  the  slot”  to  see  a dance  ; 
that  is,  you  wrap  a small  coin  in  a piece  of  paper  and 
throw  it  at  their  feet,  whereupon  the  girl  bows,  gets  up, 
makes  a few  slow  steps  forward  and  backward,  turns 
around,  does  it  over  again,  all  the  while  swinging  a fan 
gracefully  in  her  left  hand  while  her  right  rings  the 
tiny  bells  attached  to  a sistrum.  This  continues  about 
a minute,  when  her  feet  become  rooted,  the  fan  and 
sistrum  move  more  and  more  slowly,  till  they  too  cease, 
whereupon  the  girl  sinks  down  on  her  knees,  bows,  and 
the  performance  is  over.  It  was  amusingly  like  the 
movements  of  a wound-up  doll,  though  not  without 
a certain  dignified  grace.  Beside  this  dancing  booth 
there  were  others  with  more  material  attractions  — tea, 
sake,  cakes,  photographs,  carved  idols,  and  various 
trinkets. 

Unique  among  the  objects  in  the  temple  courts  is  a 
holy -water  cistern  cut  out  of  a solid  block  of  granite. 
u It  is  so  carefully  adjusted  on  its  bed,  that  the  water 
conducted  through  a long  series  of  pipes  from  the  cas- 
cade called  Sd-men-daki  behind  the  hill,  bubbles  up  and 
pours  over  each  edge  in  exactly  equal  volumes,  so  that  it 
seems  to  be  a solid  block  of  water  rather  than  a piece  of 
stone.”  I am  always  interested  in  noting  the* effect  of 
a scene  or  object  on  different  observers.  Miss  Bird  cites 
part  of  the  sentence  just  quoted  from  Mr.  Satow’s  guide- 


A pilgrim’s  paradise 


231 


book,  with  approval.  When  I saw  that  cistern,  I wrote 
in  my  note-book : “ Satow’s  comparison  to  a block  of 
water  is  exaggerated,  but  gives  a conception  of  the  really 
wonderful  regularity  with  which  the  water  overflows 
the  edges.”  Messrs.  Chamberlain  and  Mason,  in  editing 
the  new  edition  of  Satow’s  guide,  omitted  the  above 
passage  entirely ; wrongly,  I think,  because,  though 
hyperbolical,  it  appeals  to  the  imagination.  The  holy 
water  in  this  cistern,  by  the  way,  is  not  used  for  dipping 
in  the  fingers  and  touching  the  forehead,  as  in  our  Cath- 
olic churches,  but  for  drinking.  Cups  are  supplied  for 
that  purpose. 

In  the  Ieyasu  museum  we  saw  the  beautiful  silk 
kimonos  worn  by  that  hero,  beside  many  other  relics, 
including  a row  of  swords  presented  by  various  Shoguns  ; 
also  the  kago  in  which  Ieyasu  sat  when  he  was  shot  at, 
the  hole  made  by  the  bullet  being  pointed  out  near  the 
top.  To  see  his  tomb,  we  were  obliged  to  ascend  a steep 
hill,  where  it  stands,  shaped  like  a small  bronze  pagoda, 
surrounded  by  a stone  wall.  Had  I been  a patriotic 
native,  I would  have  been  seized  here,  doubtless,  by  a 
thrill  of  historic  emotions  ; but  being  merely  a foreigner, 
fond  of  art,  and  fonder  still  of  nature,  I was  less  inter- 
ested in  the  tomb  than  in  the  approach  to  it  up  the  stone 
gallery  of  more  than  two  hundred  steps  ascending 
between  two  high  walls,  which  are  covered  with  rare 
ferns,  mosses,  and  liverworts,  fed  by  daily  rains  and 
shaded  by  stately,  gloomy  trees  — an  ideal  camping 
place  for  such  amphibious  plants.  Here  it  is  always 
cool,  moist,  silent,  and  rarely  does  a ray  of  sunlight  get 
a chance  to  peep  in  between  the  moving  branches  of  the 
dark-green  trees.  One  of  these  trees  was  a twin — half 
hard,  half  soft  wood,  the  former  probably  grafted  on  the 


232 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


latter.  The  priestly  guide,  evidently  an  amateur  bota- 
nist himself,  helped  me  to  find  some  of  the  rarer  ferns 
and  mosses.  Say  what  you  will,  the  carving  of  these 
ferns  is  more  exquisite  even  than  the  famous  miniature 
sculptures  of  the  greatest  Japanese  artists,  while  the 
natural  polish  and  color  of  ferns  and  mosses  surpasses 
in  beauty  the  finest  and  costliest  Japanese  lacquer. 

We  are  apt  to  pity  the  poor  because  the  beautiful 
things  — diamonds,  gold,  works  of  art  — are  expensive. 
But  are  not  too  many  of  us  blind  to  the  beauty  of  cheap 
things  simply  because  they  are  so  cheap  and  common? 
So  I thought  as  I sat  in  the  shady  silence  of  that  solemn, 
moss-grown  staircase.  I recalled  the  first  scene  which 
had  greeted  my  eyes  when  I looked  down  on  the  town 
from  our  cottage  that  morning.  Nikko  itself  is  not 
beautiful ; its  houses  are  old  and  decayed,  its  roofs 
covered  with  moss  and  pebbles.  But  when  I looked 
down  on  these  roofs,  a rainstorm  had  just  strewn  dia- 
monds, rubies,  and  emeralds  all  over  them;  at  least,  if 
till  the  royal  jewels  in  the  world  had  been  cast  on  those 
roofs,  and  all  the  electric  lights  poured  on  them,  the 
colors  could  not  have  been  more  brilliant  and  varied 
than  those  of  the  little  drops  of  water  left  on  the  peb- 
bles by  the  shower  and  irised  by  the  rays  of  the  morning 
sun. 

When  our  supper  was  served  that  evening,  I was 
interested  in  a dish  of  lotos  roots  which  our  cook  had 
prepared  for  us.  It  was  tempting  to  the  eye,  the  roots 
having  been  sliced,  perforated,  and  colored  so  as  to 
look  like  pink  seed  pods;  but  I could  not  find  much 
flavor  in  them,  and  I believe  that  one  reason  why  they 
eat  them  is  because  tlie}r  crackle  under  the  teeth  like 
a cucumber  or  pickle.  For  this  crackling  sound  they 


A pilgrim’s  paradise 


233 


seem  to  have  a special  liking,  the  tea-house  girls  often 
having  a sort  of  quill  in  the  mouth  with  which  they 
produce  it. 

After  our  beds  had  been  made  up,  I had  great  difficulty 
in  persuading  the  old  woman  to  leave  the  outside  shut- 
ters partly  open.  She  said  it  was  against  police  regu- 
lations, and  that  there  was  danger  from  burglars  ; but  I 
pacified  her  with  my  usual  promise  to  make  good  any 
loss  by  theft,  and  to  ransom  her  if  she  was  carried  off 
herself;  with  which  promise  and  a bunch  of  grapes  she 
smilingly  contented  herself.  I suspect  that  this  old 
woman  was  a geisha  in  her  youthful  days  ; at  least,  she 
evidently  sympathized  with  the  geishas,  several  of  whom 
were  indulging  in  noisy  music  in  a neighboring  tea- 
house. She  had  an  animated  conversation  with  my 
friend,  in  which  the  word  geisha  frequently  recurred. 
She  was  offering  her  services  to  provide  a couple  of 
geishas  to  be  our  companions  while  we  remained  in 
Nikko. 


NIKKO  LAKES  AND  WATERFALLS 


BACK  VIEW  CASCADE TEA  OR  LIES KEGQN-NO-TAKI 

LAKE  CHUZENJI A LAKESIDE  INN DRAGON’S  HEAD 

CASCADE MOOR  OF  THE  RED  SWAMP LAKE  YUMOTO 

PUBLIC  BATHS THE  HOT  SPRINGS FOAM  CASCADE 

NEARLY  A WATERFALL  — SNAKE  STORIES A CHOLERA 

SCARE A NIGHT  HALF  WAY  UP  FUJI SLEEPING  UNDER 

AN  UMBRELLA 

In  the  morning  it  was  still  raining,  and  we  had  to 
spend  two  more  days  in  Nikko.  I began  to  wonder 
what  our  bill  would  be,  and  was  surprised  to  find  that 
the  charges  for  the  cottage,  three  nights,  with  meals  for 
two,  three  servants,  and  four  bottles  of  beer,  was  only 
110.90.  At  last  the  rain  ceased,  and  we  started,  without 
any  baggage  except  tooth  brushes,  leaving  our  valises 
in  charge  of  the  old  woman.  We  had  decided  to  walk, 
as  the  road  is  all  the  way  up  hill,  difficult  for  kurumas 
(three  runners  being  required  for  each),  and  in  some 
places  even  for  horses.  Desirous  of  seeing  as  many  of 
the  famous  waterfalls  and  cascades  as  possible,  we  did 
not  always  keep  to  the  main  road,  but  made  an  occa- 
sional detour.  In  this  we  merely  followed  the  example 
of  many  of  the  pilgrims,  who  thus  served  as  free  guides. 
The  first  of  the  cataracts  was  the  Urami-ga-taki,  the 
first  view  of  which,  from  the  bridge  over  the  stream 
below  it,  resembles  that  of  the  Multnomah  Falls  made 
by  one  of  the  small  tributaries  of  the  Columbia  River. 
The  Japanese  name  means  Back  View  Cascade,  the  falls 

234 


NIKKO  LAKES  AND  WATERFALLS 


235 


resembling  the  Multnomah  also  in  this,  that  you  can  go 
behind  and  under  them  to  the  other  side.  This  should 
be  done  by  all  means,  the  best  view  being  on  the  other 
side.  There  is  a spacious  grotto  under  the  falls,  cool, 
sprayful,  and  fern-clad,  also  a stone  image  of  a god, 
with  strips  of  paper  stuck  all  over  it  and  a number  of 
coins  lying  around  it,  of  so  small  a denomination  that 
no  thief  would  be  petty  enough  to  steal  them,  though 
he  be  a disbeliever  in  idols.  Two  ice-cold  springs  are 
also  below  the  falls,  tempting  to  the  thirsty.  Emerg- 
ing on  the  other  side,  we  get  a fine  view  of  the 
water  as  it  flows  from  a large  cleft  in  the  rock  over- 
head, and  falls  in  a wide,  green  curve  into  the 
pool  fifty  feet  below,  the  beauty  of  the  scene  being 
increased  by  the  green  arch  formed  by  overhanging 
shade  trees. 

At  these  falls  I had  an  odd  experience  in  rural  tea- 
house etiquette.  On  arriving,  I had  asked  Mr.  Yabi 
if  he  was  thirsty.  He  replied  that  he  was  not,  so  I said 
we  had  better  not  waste  any  time  on  the  tea  house 
which  was  perched  near  the  foot  of  the  falls.  When 
we  were  ready  to  proceed,  I noticed  that  a group  of 
pilgrims  climbed  the  hill  instead  of  taking  the  path.  I 
suggested  that  we  follow  their  example,  but  he  thought 
they  might  be  going  in  another  direction.  “ Why  not 
ask  at  the  tea  house  ? ” I said  ; and  he  replied  : “ Because 
we  did  not  stop  to  take  tea.  They  might  not  tell  us  the 
truth  ! ” So  it  seems  that  even  a Jap’s  obliging  civility 
may  be  affected  by  the  money  question.  We  soon  had 
reason  to  regret  that  we  had  not  paid  tribute  to  the  tea 
house,  or  followed  the  pilgrims,  for  we  got  into  a muddy 
ditch,  and  found,  on  meeting  a peasant,  that  we  were 
making  a big  detour.  He  set  us  right,  and  after  a few 


236 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


miles  of  arduous  climbing  we  reached  a second  water- 
fall, the  Kegon-no-taki. 

I am  surprised  that  the  excellent  Murray  guide,  the 
joint  work  of  Satow  and  Hawes,  Chamberlain,  and 
Mason,  should  give  only  a dozen  dry  lines  to  this 
superb  fall,  which  I found  next  to  Fuji  the  grandest  of 
all  Japanese  scenes.  I can  account  for  this  only  by 
supposing  that  it  was  “ sized  up  ” for  the  guide  book  at 
a time  when  a week’s  cessation  of  rain  (if  such  a thing 
is  possible  here)  had  reduced  the  volume  of  the  fall. 
If  that  was  the  case,  we  were  particularly  lucky  in  hav- 
ing been  delayed  two  days  by  the  torrents  of  rain  which 
now  swelled  the  torrent  that  makes  the  great  fall.  We 
had  followed  this  river  all  the  way  from  Nikko',  it  was 
almost  always  in  sight,  a series  of  foaming,  headlong 
rapids  as  far  as  eye  could  reach.  In  the  seven  miles 
to  the  lake  it  seemed  as  if  there  were  hardly  a stretch 
of  a hundred  yards  in  which  a boat  could  have  lived 
half  a minute.  Were  the  waters  trying  to  see  how 
quickly  they  could  get  from  the  sacred  green  slopes  of 
Nantaizan  to  the  sacred  Red  Bridge  at  Nikko  ? At  the 
falls  they  make  a reckless  tumble  of  350  feet  into  a 
huge  cauldron.  A tea  house  is  situated  near  the  pre- 
cipitous bank  whence  you  look  down  on  this  grand 
spectacle.  But  to  realize  its  true  grandeur,  you  must 
leave  the  edge  and  climb  down  into  the  cauldron  by  a 
path  behind  the  tea  house.  You  cannot  get  down  far, 
— only  a hundred  feet  or  so,  — but  it  is  enough  to  bring 
the  fall  opposite  and  partly  above  us,  and  to  help  us 
realize  its  depth  and  the  stupendous  dimensions  of  the 
mountain  cauldron  into  which  it  tumbles  as  into  a sub- 
terranean prison.  There  is  one  narrow  outlet  for  the 
water;  the  rest,  all  around,  is  precipitous  wall,  the  more 


NIKKO  LAKES  AND  WATERFALLS 


237 


impressive  for  being  bare  rock,  except  in  a few  green 
spots,  to  one  of  which  we  are  clinging,  holding  on  to  a 
young  tree  which  may  or  may  not  be  firmly  rooted. 
An  earthslide  would  carry  us  to  perdition  in  ten 
seconds.  But  the  scene  would  be  worth  much  greater 
risks.  One  would  like  to  spend  days  here,  watching 
the  effect  of  the  changing  light  and  shade.  An  odd 
freak  is  a small  stream  of  water  running  from  the  rock 
about  half  down  the  fall,  on  the  left.  One  wonders 
how  it  ever  found  an  aperture  there  Stranger  still  is 
the  fact  that  in  the  river  below  the  falls  salmon  have 
been  caught  which  must  have  come  from  Lake  Cliuzenji 
down  the  big  fall,  for  they  could  not  have  come  up 
from  below.1 

Like  Niagara,  this  fall  is  the  outflow  of  a lake  — 
Chuzenji  — which,  in  this  case,  is  less  than  a mile 
beyond  it.  It  lies  at  an  elevation  of  4375  feet  above 
the  ocean  — only  about  1500  feet  lower  than  the  most 
romantic  of  our  mountain  lakes,  the  Yellowstone  and 
Tahoe;  we  were,  therefore,  about  half  a mile  higher 
than  we  had  been  at  Nikko,  and  only  3765  feet  below 
the  summit  of  Nantaizan,  which  can  be  reached  from 
here  by  a two  hours’  climb.  The  lake  lies  at  the  foot  of 
this  mountain,  being  framed  in  on  the  other  side  by  low, 
green  mountains  prettily  serrated  and  densely  forested, 
continuous  except  for  one  break.  The  first  building 
seen  on  entering  the  village  named  after  the  lake  is  the 
fish  commissioner’s  house,  situated  on  an  isolated,  breezy 
site,  looking  inviting  to  a warm  pedestrian,  with  its 
spacious  rooms  and  foreign  rocking  chairs.  Thousands 

1 The  authority  for  this  fish  story  is  the  Japan  Weekly  Mail  of 
July  11,  1891.  It  is  pretty  well  established  that  Norwegian  salmon 
can  jump  up  sixteen  perpendicular  feet. 


238 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


of  young  salmon,  salmon  trout,  and  white  trout  are 
officially  turned  loose  in  the  lake  every  year,  and  those 
that  are  not  gobbled  up  at  once  by  the  older  inhabitants 
(who  insist  on  this  income  tax)  grow  up  to  make  fine 
sport  for  fishermen. 

Chusenji  is  simply  a pilgrims’  village,  being  deserted 
except  in  Lotos-Time.  Most  of  the  pilgrims  go  no  far- 
ther, but  make  the  ascent  of  Nantaizan  and  then  return 
to  Nikko  and  their  homes.  To  judge  by  the  number 
of  long,  barrack -like,  empty  houses  on  both  sides  of  the 
street,  there  must  have  been  a time  when  pilgrims  were 
more  numerous  than  they  are  now ; for  we  were  in  the 
midst  of  the  season.  We  put  up  at  a clean-looking  inn 
on  the  edge  of  the  lake,  intending  to  spend  the  night 
there  and  proceed  leisurely  next  day  to  Yumoto.  We 
found  an  unengaged  room  facing  the  lake,  but  were  told 
that  the  charge  for  it,  not  including  meals,  would  be  no 
less  than  three  dollars  a night;  the  reason  given  for  this 
being  that  they  could  put  up  ten  pilgrims  in  it  at  thirty 
cents  each,  and  would  be  sure  to  get  them.  The  land- 
lord told  us,  also,  that  we  would  not  find  good  accom- 
modations at  Yumoto,  if  we  should  decide  to  go  on. 
Having  some  knowledge  of  human  nature,  we  paid  no 
heed  to  this  probable  lie  and  decided  to  push  on  after 
consuming  the  meal  we  had  already  ordered.  Mr. 
Yabi’s  lunch,  I was  surprised  to  find,  did  not  come  with 
mine,  but  was  served  much  later  and  was  of  inferior 
quality.  I suspected  that  the  innkeeper  was  perhaps 
trying  to  get  even  with  him  for  not  urging  me  to 
stay,  but  he  said  that  it  was  simply  a consequence  of  his 
being  taken  for  a professional  guide.  “The  pilgrims 
and  others  who  pass  us,”  he  said,  “frequently  refer  to 
me  as  a professional  ‘interpreter,’  in  a sneering  sort  of 


NIKKO  LAKES  AND  WATERFALLS 


239 


way.  The  extortions  of  the  Yokohama  guides,  who 
make  a regular  business  of  fleecing  foreigners,  have 
brought  them  into  contempt  among  their  countrymen.” 

There  was  no  time  to  lose  if  we  were  to  make  the  six 
more  miles  of  ascent  to  Yumoto  before  dark.  Owing 
to  our  detours  to  see  the  falls,  and  our  mistake  in  one 
place,  we  had  walked  twelve  miles  instead  of  seven. 
There  were  two  more  fine  cascades  between  Chusenji 
and  Yumoto,  one  of  which  1 intended  to  see  now,  leav- 
ing the  second  for  our  return  trip.  We  reached  the 
first  of  them,  which  bears  the  name  of  Dragon’s  Head 
Cascade,  shortly  after  we  had  left  the  lake  behind  us. 
It  reminded  me  somewhat  of  a section  of  the  mammoth 
Hot  Springs  in  the  Yellowstone  Park.  The  water 
swishes  down  over  half  a dozen  narrow  rock  terraces, 
which,  however,  are  not  white,  but  dark,  in  some  spots 
almost  black,  contrasting  strikingly  with  the  white  foam 
which,  geyser-like,  seethes  up  from  the  hollows  into 
which  the  water  has  tumbled.  To  the  left  are  two 
pretty  trout  pools,  without  trout,  however,  I fancy.  At 
the  foot  of  the  cascade  the  water  is  divided  into  two 
small  streams  by  a rock  from  which  the  finest  view  is 
obtained,  not  only  of  the  cascades  above,  but  of  the 
deep,  tortuous  cleft  into  which  the  main  stream  tumbles 
below,  where  it  is  soon  lost  to  sight  in  the  gloom. 

After  traversing  a desolate  forest  section  which, 
according  to  the  guide  book,  was  ravaged  by  fire  some 
years  ago,  we  presently  came  out  into  the  Moor  of  the 
Red  Swamp,  “probably  so  named  from  the  color  of  the 
dying  grass  in  autumn.”  It  is  a genuine  mountain 
valley,  reminding  one  in  its  atmosphere  of  melancholy 
Andermatt  in  Switzerland.  Had  it  been  earlier  in  the 
day,  we  should  now  have  devoted  an  hour  to  the  Yu- 


240 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


no-taki  Cascade  to  the  left ; but  three  waterfalls  in  one 
day  seemed  quite  enough,  and  I felt  sure  that  we  should 
appreciate  the  fourth  one  more  in  the  morning,  after 
a night’s  sleep  in  the  mountain  air.  So  we  just  cast 
a glance  at  it  in  passing  and  proceeded  on  our  way 
to  Lake  Yumoto,  which  was  not  far  off.  A prettier 
mountain  lake  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  anywhere. 
Densely  wooded,  fragrant,  dark  green  mountain  slopes 
form  its  shores  with  a few  very  picturesque  promon- 
tories or  projections.  But  the  distinctive  peculiarity 
of  this  lake  lies  in  the  way  in  which  the  trees  and  the 
water  are  blended.  It  looks  almost  as  if  some  giant 
power  had  pushed  the  wooded  slopes  right  into  the  lake. 
As  a matter  of  fact,  I fancy  the  water  must  have  risen 
till  it  almost  touched  the  lowest  branches  of  the  over- 
hanging pines,  which  consequently  seem  at  a distance 
to  actually  grow  out  of  the  water. 

Lakes  should  be  seen,  not  smelled.  The  waters  of 
Yumoto  have  the  one  fault  that  they  can  be  smelled 
even  before  they  are  seen,  if  the  wind  happens  to  come 
from  the  village  of  the  same  name  at  the  other  end, 
where  the  famous  hot  sulphur  springs,  that  attract  so 
many  health  seekers,  run  into  the  lake.  The  clear, 
greenish  tint  of  the  lower  lake  is  changed  by  this  sid- 
pliurous  invasion  into  a light  blue,  hardly  less  pleasing 
to  the  eye,  provided  it  can  forget  its  nasal  neighbor. 

Yumoto  village  consists  chiefly  of  bath  houses  con- 
ducted in  the  old-fashioned  Japanese  way.  The  first 
building,  to  the  left,  was  one  of  these  bath  houses  — or 
rather  a large  pool  with  a roof  over  it,  the  sides  being 
open  to  the  view.  Here  about  a dozen  men,  women,  and 
girls  were  enjoying  the  hot  water,  some  immersed  up  to 
the  neck,  others  reclining  on  the  edge  and  gossiping, 


NIKKO  LAKES  AND  \V ATERF ALLS 


241 


all  in  the  original  costume  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  as 
unconscious  of  impropriety  as  so  many  babies.  The 
other  bath  houses  usually  had  two  tanks,  one  filled  with 
men,  the  other  with  women,  but  not  separated  by  any 
partition.  There  were  always  a few  men  on  the 
women’s  side,  and  a few  women  on  the  men’s  side. 
The  fashionable  costume  for  bathers  on  the  way  to  or 
from  the  baths  seemed  to  be  a blue  towel  hung  over 
the  arm  or  shoulder.  It  is  so  much  more  convenient, 
you  know,  to  leave  the  kimono  at  home  and  let  the  sun 
complete  the  drying  process  on  the  way  back  to  one’s 
room. 

Of  course  we  were  bound  to  have  a hot  sulphur  bath 
too,  and  I began  to  wonder  whether  our  inn  would  pro- 
vide one,  or  whether  we  should  have  to  do  as  the  Romans 
do.  We  found  that  the  inn  did  have  a private  bath, 
not  on  the  premises,  but  a few  hundred  yards  away, 
in  a separate  little  building  to  which  the  hot  sulphur 
water  was  conveyed  in  a pipe  direct  from  the  springs. 
We  donned  the  kimonos  and  slippers  supplied  by  our 
waiting  maid,  and  taking  a couple  of  blue  towels,  fol- 
lowed our  guide  to  the  bath  house.  1 was  amused  to 
notice  that  my  companion,  in  spite  of  his  foreign 
experience,  used  his  towel  in  the  Japanese  way ; that 

is,  he  dipped  it  in  the  water,  washed  himself  with  it, 
and  then,  wringing  it  out,  tried  to  dry  himself  with 

it,  — a process  requiring  considerable  faith  or  imagina- 
tion. The  water  was  of  a supportable  temperature,  and 
the  bath  a refreshing  luxury  after  our  eighteen  miles’ 
walk.  Somehow  water  warmed  by  volcanic  forces 
seems  to  have  a more  soothing,  voluptuous  effect  on  the 
nerves  than  artificially  heated  water.  ’Tis  an  ill  wind, 
etc.;  the  Japanese  suffer  terrible  calamities  from  earth- 


R 


242 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


quakes,  but  the  same  volcanic  forces  that  cause  them 
constantly  heat  for  them  thousands  of  these  springs  in 
which  they  can  luxuriate  by  the  hour  and  chuckle  at 
the  great  saving  in  charcoal. 

Our  conjecture  that  the  innkeeper  at  Chusenji  lied 
when  he  said  we  would  find  Yumoto  crowded,  proved 
correct.  There  were  no  pilgrims  here  at  all,  and  we 
had  our  choice  of  rooms  in  the  inn,  which  was  clean 
and  well  kept,  our  maid  being  as  extravagantly  atten- 
tive as  she  was  ugly.  She  was  one  of  the  type  of 
peasant  women  we  had  met  on  the  way,  with  limbs  as 
massive  and  well  rounded  as  those  of  Swiss-Italian 
dairy  maids. 

On  our  way  back  we  stopped  at  the  Yu-no-taki  Cas- 
cade. To  see  it  at  its  best,  it  is  necessary  to  descend  to 
its  foot.  I do  not  know  what  its  Japanese  name  means ; 
but  the  thought  that  flashed  into  my  mind,  after  the 
first  almost  bewildering  impression,  was  • “ This  ought 
to  be  called  the  Foam  Cascade.”  In  the  last  cascade 
described  by  me  the  foam  was  mingled  with  the  darker 
water ; but  here  it  was  all  one  white  sheet  of  foam 
swishing  down  over  the  sloping  rock  like  a perpetual 
avalanche  of  snow  dust.  The  slightest  increase  in  the 
angle  would  have  entirely  altered  the  scene ; I have 
never  seen  another  cascade  which  so  narrowly  escaped 
being  a waterfall.  I was  glad  it  had  escaped ; no  fall 
could  have  taken  its  place  in  my  admiration ; no  fall 
could  have  thus  spread  out  like  a white  fan  from  a nar- 
row top  to  a broad  base ; no  fall  could  have  conveyed 
the  same  “ arrow-water  ” effect  of  swiftness.  A fall 
would  have  dropped  into  an  agitated  pool,  whereas 
at  the  base  of  this  cascade  the  foam  suddenly  resumes 
the  form  of  water,  and  flows  away  in  an  almost  placid 


NIKKO  LAKES  AND  WATERFALLS 


243 


brook.  It  is  about  thirty  or  forty  feet  wide,  and  sev- 
eral hundred  in  height.  The  sides  are  lined  with  ferns 
and  mosses,  the  top  and  the  left  edge  all  the  way  up 
fringed  by  overhanging  trees  ; as  in  the  Bridal  Veil  in 
the  Yosemite  Valley,  the  water  seems  to  flow  right  out 
of  the  blue  sky  above.  When  the  overhanging  maples 
are  touched  with  autumn  colors,  the  effect  must  be  finer 
still. 

Returning  to  the  desolate  Moor  of  the  Red  Swamp, 
we  were  favored  with  a fine  view  of  the  sacred  Nantai- 
zan,  once  a volcano,  but  so  long  at  rest  that  all  traces  of 
its  crater  have  disappeared.  As  we  looked,  the  clouds 
were  rent  in  twain,  leaving  the  summit  in  mists,  while 
the  lower  slopes  were  bathed  in  warm,  yellow  sunlight. 
To  the  right  a perpendicular  rainbow  added  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  the  sublime  spectacle.  We  would  have 
ascended  this  mountain,  but  as  our  next  expedition  was 
to  be  to  'Fuji,  it  seemed  scarcely  worth  while  to  attempt 
a peak  almost  a mile  lower.  The  prospect  of  going 
up  Fuji  helped  to  console  me  for  having  to  leave  this 
elevated  region,  where  I had  felt  more  braced  up  than 
in  any  other  part  of  Japan.  Everything  was  in  our 
favor  on  the  return  trip,  — a cool  wind  in  the  face, 
fleecy  clouds  above  to  serve  as  sunshades,  and  every 
step  down  hill.  Nevertheless,  when  we  reached  the 
edge  of  Lake  Cliusenji  again,  we  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  take  a cooling  bath  in  its  clear  watprs, 
to  the  delight  of  the  small  fry  of  fish  which  swarmed 
about  us  and  nibbled  at  our  toes  and  legs.  We  had  of 
course  taken  a hot  sulphur  bath  before  leaving  Yumoto, 
and  on  getting  back  to  Nikko  we  had  another  hot  bath. 
Three  baths  in  one  day!  I began  to  feel  quite  Japanese. 

Both  in  going  and  returning  we  saw  a number  of 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


214 

snakes  along  the  roadside,  some  of  them  being  two  or 
three  feet  in  length.  Mr.  Yabi  said  they  were  harm- 
less, and  that  although  poisonous  snakes  do  exist  in 
Japan,  they  are  rare,  and  their  bite  not  fatal  if  the  limb 
is  cut  off  at  once.  The  peasants  boil  these  snakes  (a 
species  of  adder)  and  eat  them  as  a medicine.  Mr. 
Yabi  also  maintained  that  in  the  southern  part  of  the 
island  there  exists  a kind  of  boa,  large  enough  to  swal- 
low children,  and  that  formerly  some  of  these  monsters 
led  an  amphibious  existence  at  Lake  Chusenji.  They 
play  a great  role  in  Japanese  legends,  but  the  geolo- 
gists have  not  yet  officially  certified  to  their  existence, 
although  only  a few  years  ago,  as  Professor  Chamber- 
lain  tells  us,  the  vernacular  press  printed  a circumstan- 
tial account  of  the  swallowing  alive  of  a woman  by  one 
of  these  serpents. 

On  the  following  morning  we  took  the  train  for 
Tokyo,  where  we  remained  a day  to  make  preparations 
for  an  ascent  of  Fuji.  Had  we  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  summit,  it  would  have  been  worth  while  to  devote 
a chapter  to  this  excursion ; but  as  the  incessant  rain 
made  us  turn  back  before  we  had  got  half  way  up,  I 
will  mention  only  two  picturesque  incidents  of  the  trip. 
Knowing  that  nothing  is  so  refreshing  and  strengthen- 
ing to  climbers  as  tea,  I took  along  half  a pound  of  the 
English  breakfast  variety,  of  which  I prepared  a strong 
infusion  at  a wayside  inn.  We  had  several  miles  more 
to  ride  before  reaching  Uma-gaeshi,  or  “ horse-send- 
back.”  Now,  on  the  day  before  we  left  Tokyo,  there 
had  been  about  thirty  local  deaths  from  cholera,  and 
about  as  many  at  Yokohama.  My  companion  had 
spent  the  night  at  home,  and  knowing  his  carelessness 
in  regard  to  eating  and  drinking,  I had  felt  some  little 


FUJI  FROM  HAKONE  LAKE 


f 


NIKKO  LAKES  AND  WATERFALLS 


245 


anxiety  about  him.  He  seemed  to  be  all  right,  how- 
ever, till  suddenly,  shortly  after  we  had  left  the  inn 
where  we  had  made  the  tea,  he  stopped  his  horse,  got 
off,  and  lay  down  on  the  ground,  looking  pale  as  a 
ghost.  Here  was  a predicament!  I felt  sure  he  had 
caught  the  cholera,  and  expected  to  see  him  a corpse 
in  an  hour ; for  Asiatic  cholera  often  makes  short 
work  of  its  victims.  I offered  him  a spoonful  of  tea 
mixed  with  a few  drops  of  acid  phosphate  (which  I 
carried  in  my  pocket  as  a germicide,  in  case  I should 
have  to  drink  suspicious  water  or  tea),  and  he  took  it. 
Five  minutes  later,  to  my  surprise  and  joy,  the  color 
returned  to  his  face,  and  presently  he  sat  up,  smiled, 
and  said  : “ I guess  that  Chinese  tea  was  too  strong  for 
me ! ” 

So  our  tragedy  luckily  ended  in  comedy,  and  we  pro- 
ceeded up  the  mountain,  clad  in  oil-paper  cloaks,  leav- 
ing our  horses  at  the  next  station.  The  rain  drenched 
us  in  torrents  all  the  way  up,  and  I wondered  more  and 
more  what  became  of  all  the  water,  which  sank  into  the 
black  ground  as  fast  as  it  fell,  and  nowhere  came  to  the 
surface  again  in  the  form  of  brooks  or  springs.  We 
passed  a few  pilgrims  with  tinkling  bells  attached  to 
their  belts,  — the  only  thing  to  break  the  Alpine  silence 
about  us.  Luckily,  the  pilgrim  season  was  over;  else 
we  might  have  found  the  station  where  we  had  to  spend 
the  night  overcrowded.  There  are  six  of  these  sta- 
tions, ours  being,  I believe,  the  third.  It  was  a sort  of 
cave  dwelling  — a wretched  hovel,  dug  partly  into  the 
lava,  partly  built  up  of  big  stones,  heavy  enough  to 
resist  the  winter  winds.  We  had  two  porters,  and  our 
party  of  four,  with  the  host  and  his  wife  and  child,  just 
about  filled  up  the  one  small  room,  the  little  space  avail- 


246 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


able  being  diminished  by  a large  pile  of  wood  and  a 
tank  full  of  rainwater.  In  the  middle  of  the  room 
there  was  a fire  hole  in  the  ground,  with  a tripod,  but 
no  chimney,  or  even  a hole  in  the  roof ; consequently, 
when  the  preparations  for  supper  began,  the  cabin  was 
soon  filled  with  smoke  so  dense  that  I had  to  close  my 
eyes.  This  prevented  me  from  seeing  what  the  inn- 
keeper’s wife  put  into  our  soup.  However,  I boldly 
drank  some  of  the  liquid  and,  with  my  chopsticks, 
fished  out  the  pieces  of  hard-boiled  egg  floating  in  it ; 
but  I could  not  persuade  myself  to  tackle  the  other 
solid  ingredients,  which  had  a mysterious  appearance 
and  taste.  Mine  host,  seeing  me  push  the  bowl  away, 
asked  if  I had  finished;  when  I said  I had,  he  seized 
the  chopsticks  and  the  bowl  and  eagerly  gobbled  up 
the  remains.  They  cannot  afford  to  waste  wood  or 
food  at  such  an  altitude.  I found  solace  in  a can  of 
cold  chicken,  with  jam  and  crackers  for  dessert.  We 
must  have  formed  a picturesque  group  — Yabi  and  I 
on  one  side,  demolishing  our  foreign  canned  viands, 
picnic  style,  and  on  the  other  side  our  porters  and  the 
innkeeper’s  family,  with  a huge  bucket  of  rice  between 
them,  from  which  they  helped  themselves  to  four  or  five 
large  bowls  each,  shovelling  in  the  unflavored  mush  with 
an  appetite  bred  of  mountain  air. 

Our  beds  were  made  up  soon  after  supper,  each  of  us 
receiving  one  quilt  to  lie  on  and  one  to  use  as  a cover, 
besides  a square  block  of  wood  for  a pillow.  By  keep- 
ing on  all  my  clothes  and  putting  over  them  my  overcoat, 
which  one  of  the  porters  had  brought  up,  I managed  to 
keep  tolerably  warm.  But  the  night  was  a burlesque 
on  sleep  which  I shall  never  forget,  though  I should  live 
a century  longer.  The  storm  was  increasing  when  we 


NIKKO  LAKES  AND  WATERFALLS 


247 


lay  down.  After  about  an  hour’s  nap,  I awoke  to  find 
the  rain  dripping  fast  and  furious  on  my  unprotected 
nose.  I moved  my  “ pillow  ” a few  inches,  but  the  rain 
followed.  I opened  my  umbrella,  and  Mr.  Yabi,  whose 
experience  was  a duplicate  of  mine,  did  the  same  with 
his.  This  was  the  first  time  I ever  slept  under  an  um- 
brella, — and  I have  no  desire  to  repeat  the  experiment. 

When  we  woke  up  in  the  morning,  the  rain  was  com- 
ing down  more  violently  than  ever,  and  our  host  agreed 
with  the  porters  that  it  would  be  unwise  to  proceed. 
It  had  been  raining  that  way  for  several  days,  and  all 
the  signs  indicated  that  it  would  continue  several  days 
longer.  We  were  told  that  a few  pilgrims,  who  had 
persevered  on  the  preceding  day,  had  seen  nothing  what- 
ever, and  had  been  so  cold  in  the  lava  huts  on  the  sum- 
mit that  they  could  not  hold  the  tea  cups  in  their  hands. 
Under  the  circumstances,  it  would  have  been  foolish  to 
proceed,  so  I named  our  station  jin-gaeshi,  — man-turn- 
back, — and  we  retraced  our  steps,  the  sympathetic  clouds 
drenching  us  all  the  way  down  with  big  tears  over  our 
disappointment. 


RAILWAY  GENRE  PICTURES 


THE  LEGEND  OF  FUJI  AND  BIWA A POPULAR  RAILWAY 

HOW  JAPANESE  WOMEN  SMOKE A MARRIED  BEAUTY 

THE  DRESS  PROBLEM FAT  WRESTLERS LUNCH  BOXES 

CHEAP  TEA  SETS 


In  Portland,  Oregon,  they  tell  a story  of  an  old  resi- 
dent, who  took  a “ tenderfoot  ” from  the  East  up  the 
heights,  and  with  great  pride  pointed  out  the  snowy 
cone  of  Mount  Hood.  “You  see  that  mountain?  It 
is  now  about  11,000  feet  high.  When  I came  to  Oregon, 
it  was  a mere  hole  in  the  ground!  ” 

In  Japan  they  have  a legend  which  beats  even  that 
story.  It  is  related  that  one  night  Fuji  suddenly  shot 
up  from  the  ground,  and  what  is  more,  that  on  the  same 
night  Lake  Biwa,  near  Kyoto,  140  miles  away,  was 
formed  by  the  simultaneous  subsiding  of  a correspond- 
ing area  of  land.  These  stories,  after  all,  are  not  quite 
so  ridiculous  as  they  seem,  for  it  is  known  that  volca- 
noes have  thus  risen  suddenly  from  land  or  sea,  and 
that  they  really  do  grow  from  the  overflow  and  harden- 
ing of  the  lava,  to  which  they  owe  their  regular  conical 
shape,  which  always  distinguishes  volcanic  peaks  from 
others.  It  is  only  fair  to  add,  too,  that  not  all  the 
Japanese  believe  in  the  Lake  Biwa  part  of  that  legend. 
Thus,  one  old  writer  says,  with  some  force,  “ On  con- 
sideration, I think  that  the  vulgar  reports  which  say 

248 


RAILWAY  GENRE  PICTURES 


249 


that  the  earth  from  Hako  [Lake  Biwa]  became  Fuji- 
san are  falsehoods ; for  how  could  the  earth  be  well 
transported  thither  when  Suruga  and  Omi  are  sepa- 
rated by  more  than  100  ri?  ” 

While  it  may  not  be  true  that  the  mud  of  Biwa  was 
carried  140  miles  north,  it  is  undeniable  that  such  mud 
of  Fuji  as  clung  to  our  boots  was  carried  140  miles 
south  to  Biwa,  as  we  took  the  morning  train  from 
Gotemba  to  Kyoto.  This  railway  was  not  completed 
till  1889.  Before  its  construction  the  trip  from  the 
new  capital  to  the  old  took  ten  days  by  kuruma,  or 
nearly  two  days  by  steamer.  To-day  it  can  be  made 
in  sixteen  to  twenty  hours  by  rail,  the  distance  being 
829  miles.  Such  a saving  in  time  makes  an  impression 
even  on  the  leisurely  Oriental  minds,  and  as  the  cost 
is  proportionately  reduced  (only  one  cent  a mile,  third 
class),  the  cars  are  usually  as  crowded  as  in  America 
and  northern  Europe,  wherefore  the  Kyoto  railway 
affords  excellent  opportunities  for  studying  manners 
and  customs  en  route. 

Some  of  the  second-class  cars  have  notices  forbidding 
smoking.  To  these  the  natives  do  not  always  pay 
attention,  unless  specially  requested,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  it  does  not  occur  to  them  that  any  one 
could  possibly  object  to  a habit  in  which  they  all 
indulge,  women  as  well  as  men.  A smoking  woman 
is  to  me  an  unpleasant  sight,  but  I could  not  help  get- 
ting considerable  amusement  from  watching  the  proc- 
ess. A Japanese  pipe,  as  used  by  both  women  and  men, 
is  not  as  large  as  a thimble,  — about  the  size  of  a Chi- 
nese opium  pipe,  — and  holds  perhaps  as  much  tobacco 
as  would  make  a pinch  of  snuff.  There  was  a pretty 
girl  of  about  eighteen  sitting  opposite  us,  who  took  a 


250 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


smoke  several  times  an  hour.  She  filled  her  little  howl 
from  a dainty  little  pouch,  lighted  a match,  took  three 
or  four  whiffs,  then  knocked  the  bowl  against  her 
wooden  shoe,  so  that  the  glowing  pellet  fell  on  the 
floor.  In  a moment  she  refilled  her  pipe,  but  instead 
of  relighting  it  with  a match,  she  tried  to  pick  up  the 
fiery  lump  with  the  bowl,  which,  after  a few  failures, 
she  dextrously  succeeded  in  doing.  Matches  are  ex- 
tremely cheap  in  Japan,  but  one  gets  the  impression 
that  they  have  not  been  long  in  use.  Most  of  the 
men,  after  striking  one,  perversely  hold  it  head  up- 
wards, with  the  result  that  it  usually  goes  out  before  it 
has  been  of  any  use. 

The  offensiveness  and  injuriousness  of  the  smoking 
habit  are  greatly  lessened  by  the  smallness  of  Japanese 
pipes.  Every  smoker  knows  that  in  a pipe  or  cigar 
the  first  whiffs  are  the  best.  In  Japanese  smoking  all 
whiffs  are  first  whiffs  ; there  are  no  offensive  cigar 
ends  or  big  bowls  saturated  with  sickening  nicotine. 
Smokers  do  not  perpetually  smell  of  the  weed  as  else- 
where, and  altogether  the  indulgence  is  more  esthetic. 
The  ideal  process  of  smoking,  however,  would  be  to 
simply  ignite  the  tobacco  and  smell  of  it,  as  of  incense 
sticks,  without  taking  the  smoke  in  the  mouth ; for  in 
this  way  the  fragrance  of  good  tobacco  would  be  much 
more  agreeable,  and  the  offensiveness  of  bad  tobacco 
much  less  disagreeable. 

There  was  a certain  historic  fitness  in  making  smoke 
studies  on  the  way  to  Kyoto,  for  it  was  in  that  ancient 
capital  that  tabako  was  first  made  fashionable  in  Japan, 
about  half  a century  after  its  introduction  into  Europe. 
Mr.  Satow  quotes  from  a native  chronicle  of  1605  that 
“ the  inhabitants  of  Kyoto  contended  with  one  another 


RAILWAY  GENRE  PICTURES 


251 


in  smoking,  and  the  habit  is  rapidly  spreading  over  the 
country.”  In  the  same  year  a native  physician  wrote 
of  tobacco  as  having  lately  come  into  use.  He  describes 
it  as  leaves  “ of  which  one  drinks  the  smoke,”  and  alludes 
to  a current  belief  that  it  was  “a  cure  for  all  diseases.” 

When  the  young  woman  opposite  us  was  not  smoking, 
she  was  chewing  — not  tobacco  — that  filthy  habit  is 
unknown  here  — nor  the  flavored  gum  beloved  of  our 
young  ladies,  but  something  which  looked  (but  probably 
did  not  taste)  like  a small  red-pepper  fruit.  My  com- 
rade said  it  was  called  hodsuke , and  was  for  sale  in  fruit 
stores.  At  one  of  the  stations  our  girl  got  off,  and  her 
place  was  taken  by  a married  woman  of  about  thirty 
accompanied  by  two  children  of  about  five  and  seven. 
She  was  still  remarkably  beautiful,  showing  that  not  all 
Japanese  women  lose  their  physical  charms  soon  after 
marriage.  Of  course  her  teeth  were  not  blackened  nor 
her  eyebrows  shaved,  these  mediaeval  mutilations  being 
no  longer  indulged  in  by  women  who  are  “ in  the  swim.” 
On  the  other  hand,  I was  pleased  to  see  that  she  had  had 
the  courage  and  good  sense  to  retain  her  Japanese  cos- 
tume, although  both  her  husband  and  son  were  dressed 
in  foreign  clothes,  from  the  hat  down  to  the  shoes. 
The  Japanese  female  costume  undoubtedly  has  its 
disadvantages  in  practical  life  (it  hampers  the  gait), 
but  it  is  infinitely  more  picturesque  and  becoming  than 
a Parisian  costume  on  a Parisian  woman  ; and  when  the 
Parisian  costume  is  transferred  to  a Japanese  woman, 
the  effect  is  usually  deplorable  — an  utter  absence  of 
fit,  style,  ease,  and  naturalness. 

Among  all  the  women  who  entered  and  left  our  car 
from  station  to  station  there  was  only  one  who  wore 
a foreign  dress,  and  she  was  a warning  example  of  self  • 


252 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


conscious  awkwardness,  the  direct  negation  of  the  art- 
less grace  which  constitutes  one  of  the  inherited  charms 
of  Japanese  women.  Her  dowdiness  was  emphasized 
by  the  appearance  of  a young  girl  sitting  next  her,  a 
maiden  with  pretty  features  and  a finely  moulded  figure, 
whose  picturesque  dress  indicated  that  she  was  a geisha. 
She  was  accompanied  by  an  old  man,  her  guardian,  and 
was  doubtless  on  her  way  to  enliven  some  banquet  with 
her  song,  samisen,  or  dance.  But  no  rose  without 
thorns  — her  complexion  was  so  utterly  marred  by 
paint  and  powder  on  lips  and  cheeks  that  even  the 
merry  twinkle  of  her  coquettish  black  eyes  could  not 
repair  the  damage. 

J apan  is  proverbially  a land  of  miniatures ; every- 
thing is  planned  on  a small  scale.  But  there  are  some 
astounding  exceptions,  to  which  reference  was  made  in 
a preceding  chapter.  With  one  of  these,  Fujisan,  we 
had  just  wrestled  in  vain,  and  I am  sure  we  should  have 
fared  worse  yet  had  we  attempted  to  wrestle  with  one 
of  the  human  Fujis  who  came  into  our  car  at  Nagoya — 
four  professional  wrestlers,  who  would  have  been  re- 
garded as  giants  even  in  America,  while  here,  among 
the  small  Japanese,  they  appeared  like  actual  Brob- 
dingnagians.  Their  loose  dress  could  hardly  cover  the 
huge  masses  of  fat  and  muscle  on  their  arms,  abdomen, 
and  legs.  They  looked  absurdly  like  disgustingly  fat 
old  women,  the  illusion  being  heightened  by  their  old- 
fashioned  feminine  way  of  dressing  the  hair.  Some  of 
these  fellows  astonished  the  members  of  our  Perry 
expedition  when  it  opened  up  Japan.  One  man  carried 
a sack  of  rice  weighing  125  pounds  suspended  by  his 
teeth ; another  took  a sack  in  his  arms  and  turned  a 
series  of  somersaults  with  it,  as  if  it  had  been  a feather. 


RAILWAY  GENRE  PICTURES 


253 


But  I believe  it  is  by  their  weight  rather  than  their 
muscle  that  these  monsters  win,  hence  eating  is  the 
principal  part  of  their  training.  1 had  no  chance  to 
see  a match,  but  in  Kyoto,  one  evening,  I found  a crowd 
of  Japanese  children  and  adults  in  front  of  an  eating 
house,  gaping  with  open  mouths  at  the  gluttonous  feats 
of  a group  of  wrestlers.  I fancied  that  these  brutes 
must  belong  to  a special  branch  of  the  Japanese  race,  or 
at  least  come  from  a special  province ; but  Mr.  Yabi 
said  that  this  was  not  the  case.  They  come  from  vari- 
ous parts  of  the  country ; they  are  great  popular  heroes, 
like  the  bull  fighters  in  Spain ; hence,  whenever  a man 
of  the  lower  classes  grows  up  abnormally  big,  he  becomes 
a wrestler  for  profit  and  glory,  which  is  sometimes  gory. 
A native  writer  says  that  his  countrymen  become  so 
excited  over  wrestling  matches  that  “ they  throw  their 
clothes  and  valuables  into  the  ring,  to  be  redeemed 
afterwards  in  money ; nay,  in  his  excitement,  a man 
will  even  tear  off  his  neighbor’s  jacket  and  throw  it  in.” 
There  are  no  eating  stations  along  Japanese  railways, 
and  as  the  dining-car  stage  of  evolution  has  not  yet 
been  reached,  we  had  taken  our  lunch  along.  But  we 
would  not  have  starved  if  we  had  neglected  this  pre- 
caution, for  at  meal  time  the  station  platforms  were 
crowded  by  boys  and  men  carrying  trays  full  of  lunch 
boxes,  besides  cakes,  eggs,  unripe  fruit,  bottled  beer, 
lemonade,  etc.  The  lunch  boxes  usually  contain  rice 
with  fish,  or  pickles,  the  more  expensive  ones  including 
sandwiches  or  cold  meat.  But  the  most  remarkable 
things  — real  “bargains” — are  the  pots  of  tea  that  are 
offered  to  the  passengers  — small  earthen  pots,  neatly 
decorated,  filled  with  a pint  of  hot  tea  and  costing,  with 
a thin,  pretty  porcelain  cup,  only  three  or  four  cents ! 


254 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Some  of  the  passengers  bought  several  of  these  tea  sets, 
and  before  we  reached  the  end  of  our  journey  they  had 
a regular  pantry  under  their  seats.  A party  of  Ameri- 
can missionary  women  at  the  other  end  of  our  car, 
though  supplied  with  knives  and  forks,  ate  their  lunch 
with  chopsticks,  perhaps  in  order  to  conciliate  the  na- 
tives. They  distributed  tracts  from  the  car  windows. 


FASCINATIONS  OF  KYOTO 


WATERMELONS  AND  CHOLERA THE  JAPANESE  ROME A 

CITY  OF  TEMPLES  COREAN  EAR  MOUND  BUDDHIST 

CHANTING  RASCALLY  PRIESTS  SILK  FACTORIES  

SOUTHERN  FEMALE  BEAUTY  THE  SPANISH  TYPE  A 

BLIND  MUSICIAN KOTO  CONCERT CHEAP  ART  TREAS- 
URES  AN  ORIENTAL  NOCTURNE 

From  Tokyo  to  Kyoto  is  almost  as  far  as  from  Boston 
to  Baltimore.  It  was,  therefore,  not  surprising  that 
the  fields  and  mountains  gradually  assumed  a more 
southern  aspect  as  we  neared  Kyoto.  The  broom  cane 
in  the  fields  reminded  one  of  Missouri ; the  wells  scat- 
tered through  the  rice  fields  indicated  that  rivers  are 
less  abundant  than  farther  north.  There  had  been 
much  less  summer  rain  here  than  in  Toky5 ; the  air 
was  drier ; the  hillsides  were  not  so  luxuriantly  green, 
but  scarred  with  many  rocky  patches  entirely  bare  of 
vegetation. 

It  was  dark  when  we  reached  Kyoto.  As  we  rode 
through  the  streets  in  our  kurumas,  it  seemed  as  if  the 
houses  were  even  more  open  to  view  than  at  Tokyo, 
hardly  a detail  of  domestic  life  being  concealed.  And 
what  a careless  people  they  are,  taking  their  pleasure 
to-day,  regardless  of  to-morrow  ! On  that  very  day 
there  had  been  a hundred  cases  of  cholera  in  the  city  of 
Osaka,  only  thirty  miles  away,  and  a number  of  cases 

255 


256 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


in  Kyoto  itself ; yet  it  seemed  as  if  half  the  population 
had  turned  out  to  spend  the  evening  eating  water- 
melons. Kyoto  would  be  a real  “nigger’s  heaven.” 
Every  other  house  appeared  to  be  turned  into  a melon 
stand,  and  behind  each  huge  pile  of  green  watermelons 
stood  a man  with  a large  knife  cutting  them  into  juicy 
slices,  and  distributing  them  for  a trifle  to  his  cus- 
tomers, who  stood  or  sat  around  on  benches  demolishing' 
them  con  gusto.  There  was  so  much  to  see  that  I 
wished  our  long  ride  to  the  hotel  were  much  longer. 
Our  men  dragged  us  up  a steep  hillside,  and  finally 
landed  us  at  the  Yaami  hotel,  noted  for  its  line  view  of 
the  city  below,  and  the  semi-bare  mountains  beyond. 
It  is  a site  that  any  Buddhist  temple  might  be  proud 
of,  and  I found  it  cooler  at  night  than  I had  expected. 
The  hotel  is  more  than  half  foreign,  and  we  were 
excellently  taken  care  of,  the  rooms  being  airy,  the 
beds  soft,  the  meals  well  cooked ; and  while  we  were 
eating,  small  boys  armed  with  huge  fans  kept  us  cool. 
Yet  the  guests  here  were  all  foreigners ; the  charges 
are  three  dollars  a day,  which  seems  very  high  to 
natives  of  a country  where  the  average  earnings  are 
twenty  cents  a day,  and  where  one  can  live  on  about 
seven  dollars  a month.1 

Kyoto  suggests  Rome  in  some  respects.  For  more 
than  a thousand  years  — 794  to  1868  — it  was  the  capital 
of  Japan,  the  seat  of  culture,  licentiousness,  etiquette, 
religion,  and  learning,  with  a population  of  over  a 
million  pleasure-loving  people,  devoted  to  religious  fes- 

1 A T5kyo  paper,  the  Jiji  Shimpo , says  that  in  that  city  a man 
can  get  board  and  lodging  for  six  or  seven  yen  (dollars)  a month.  It 
adds  that  “one  summer  and  one  winter  suit  of  clothes  should  suffice 
a man  for  three  years,”  and  that  “ to  ride  to  and  from  one’s  office  in 
a kuruma  is  simply  thriftless  self-indulgence.” 


FASCINATIONS  OF  KYOTO 


257 


tivals  and  secular  picnics.  Here  dwelt  the  Mikado, 
revered  as  sacred,  inaccessible,  infallible  ; here  were  the 
headquarters  of  the  religious  orders.  To-day  Kyoto, 
like  Rome,  has  dwindled  to  a . quarter  of  its  former 
size  ; but  whereas  Rome,  with  a population  of  270,000, 
has  what  is  considered  the  remarkable  number  of  354 
churches,  Kyoto,  with  exactly  the  same  population, 
had,  as  late  as  1875,  as  many  as  3500  temples,  with 
8000  priests.  Since  the  disestablishment  of  Buddhism, 
twenty  years  ago,  their  number  has  rapidly  diminished, 
and  of  those  that  remain,  many  have  been  left  isolated 
in  the  suburbs  by  the  shrinking  of  the  city,  like 
anchored  vessels  stranded  by  a receding  ocean.  In 
addition  to  these  city  temples  there  used  to  be  count- 
less others  on  the  picturesque  sites  of  neighboring 
mountains.  Thus  the  “chilly  mountain”  — Hiei-zan 
— was,  according  to  the  historians,  covered  during 
mediaeval  times  with  as  many  as  three  thousand  Bud- 
dhist buildings  ; and  we  read  that  “ the  monks,  who 
were  often  ignorant,  truculent,  and  of  disorderly  habits, 
became  the  terror  of  Kyoto,  on  which  peaceful  city 
they  would  swoop  down  after  the  manner  of  banditti,” 
until  the  great  warrior  Nobunaga  arose  in  just  wrath, 
burnt  the  temples,  and  dispersed  the  monks. 

But  if  the  Buddhist  monks  did  not  always  behave 
themselves,  they  were  great  patrons  of  the  fine  arts, 
and  many  are  the  marvellous  sights  still  to  be  seen  in 
their  principal  temples  in  Kybto.  The  reader  will,  I 
am  sure,  pardon  me  for  dismissing  those  sights  with  a 
reference  to  the  red  guide  book  in  which  they  are 
minutely  and  admirably  described  by  experts,  But  a 
few  running  comments  at  random  may  not  be  out  of 
place.  The  kurumayas  who  took  us  from  temple  to 


258 


LOTOS -TIME  IN  JAPAN 


temple  were  practical  fellows.  They  brought  along 
covers  of  blue  muslin  to  put  over  our  shoes,  so  that  we 
did  not  have  to  waste  time  by  continually  taking  them 
off  and  putting  them  on  again.  We  saw  many  price- 
less works  of  art,  in  looking  at  which  it  made  one  shud- 
der to  think  that  they  were  constantly  exposed  to  the 
danger  of  fire  in  such  inflammable  wooden  buildings. 
We  saw  old  pictures  showing  that  even  in  conservative 
Japan,  costume  and  the  style  of  wearing  the  hair  have 
often  changed.  We  saw  the  famous  temple  with  the 
thousand  quaint  images  of  Kwannon  standing  in  rows 
like  soldiers,  and  we  saw  the  gigantic  bell  and  the  giant 
Daibutsu  or  Great  Buddha,  fifty-eight  feet  in  height, 
whose  nose  is  nine  feet  long  and  his  ears  twelve  (no 
disrespect  intended).  Near  by,  we  saw  also  the  Ear 
Mound,  in  which  the  ears  and  noses  of  slain  Corean 
warriors  were  buried,  three  centuries  ago  — a mound 
which  may  without  frivolity  be  said  to  mark  a new  era, 
since  it  had  been  previously  the  custom  to  bring  to  the 
victorious  generals  the  whole  heads  of  the  fallen  ene- 
mies. We  saw  the  special  room  in  which  Ilideyoshi  used 
to  inspect  these  heads.  Ear  and  nose  cutting,  however, 
seems  to  have  had  no  more  effect  on  the  Coreans  than 
decapitation,  for  did  not  they  send  the  following  insult- 
ing and  taunting  message  to  Japan  as  late  as  1872? 

“ We  Coreans  are  a very  small  country,  but  yet  we  have  the 
courage  to  put  in  writing  to  you  that  Western  barbarians  are 
beasts.  The  above  we  intend  as  a direct  insult  to  you  and  your 
allies,  the  barbarians.  We  desire  that  you  should  join  them  and 
bring  your  great  ships  and  your  army  here.  Fusankai  is  the  near- 
est port  of  Corea  to  Japan.” 

In  some  of  the  temples  the  evidences  of  rapid  decay 
were  mournfully  apparent.  But  in  one  respect  these 


FASCINATIONS  OF  KYOTO 


259 


were  the  most  interesting  of  all  : their  dim  religious 
silence  harmonized  with  their  dim  religious  light ; the 
carps  in  the  lotos  ponds,  unused  to  the  sound  of  foot- 
steps, splashed  to  the  surface  to  be  fed  whenever  we 
approached.  In  one  of  the  more  frequented  temples  we 
stopped  to  hear  the  “ musical  ” service.  It  made  me 
long  for  more  of  the  dim  religious  silence.  A few  dozen 
priests  were  chanting  in  the  inner  enclosure.  If  Scho- 
penhauer called  the  Catholic  cathedral  service  Pfaffen- 
geplarr , 1 wonder  what  he  would  have  said  of  this 
performance  ; I am  afraid  it  would  have  severely  tested 
his  Buddhist  predilections.  Each  priest  raised  his  voice 
independently,  and  after  exercising  his  lungs  for  a while 
he  seemed  to  make  a faint  attempt  to  get  somewhere 
near  the  notes  sung  by  others  ; but  these  efforts  rarely 
resulted  in  exact  unison,  and  the  general  effect,  especially 
at  a slight  distance,  was  surprisingly  like  the  bleating 
of  a flock  of  sheep.  The  congregation  listened  to  the 
service,  kneeling,  some  counting  off  their  beads.  Near 
the  door  stood  a group  of  men,  smoking  and  talking,  as 
if  in  a tavern.  But  the  priests  themselves  sometimes 
hire  temples  for  political  meetings,  dramatic  dances, 
and  other  geisha  entertainments. 

From  the  Kiyomizu  temple  we  went  down  a gulch 
into  which  tumble  three  miniature  streams  of  water. 
Here  a girl  had  a stand  with  selected  sweets,  and  a 
number  of  bottles  filled  with  sacred  water,  to  the  use  of 
which  the  priests  ascribe  beneficial  effects.  Another 
of  their  pious  frauds  (how  the  human  race  does  love  to 
be  bamboozled  by  priests  ! ) is  that  you  please  the  gods 
by  letting  the  first  of  those  cascades  tickle  and  chill 
your  back.  The  girl  lends  bathing  tights  for  the  pur- 
pose. We  saw  a poor  old  woman,  between  seventy  and 


260 


LOTOS -TIME  IN  JAPAN 


eighty,  all  shrivelled  up  and  naked,  standing  under  the 
stream,  her  hands  clasped  in  prayer,  shivering  in  the 
cold  water.  I felt  sorry  for  the  decrepit,  foolish  vic- 
tim of  priestly  mendacity. 

They  are  a rascally  lot,  these  Buddhist  priests,  quite 
as  bad  as  were  the  mediaeval  monks  of  Europe.  The 
Japanese  themselves  cheerfully  admit  this.  A Buddhist 
paper,  the  Bukkyo,  points  out  that  the  three  failings 
of  the  priesthood  are  idleness,  immorality,  and  disloy- 
alty to  the  faith ; while  another  paper  not  unfavorable 
to  Buddhism,  the  Ajiya,  says  that  the  great  evil  to-day 
is  that  “ now  the  priesthood  is  composed,  for  the  most 
part,  of  the  lowest  dregs  of  society,  bankrupt  spend- 
thrifts, knaves  who  have  no  other  place  of  refuge  left, 
and  good-for-nothing  fellows  incapable  of  earning  a 
livelihood  in  any  sterner  line  of  life.” 

Theoretically,  the  Buddhist  priests  are  so  averse  to 
taking  the  life  of  even  the  humblest  living  thing,  that 
they  have  invented  legends  about  the  punishment 
inflicted  in  hell  on  those  who  spend  their  life  scalding 
silkworms.  In  practice,  however,  they  are  not  at  all 
averse  to  wearing  silk  gowns  whenever  they  can  afford 
to  do  so.  Nor  do  I wonder  at  their  inconsistency  ; 
Japanese  silks  would  have  tempted  a ragged  mediaeval 
anchorite  to  dress  up  and  change  his  asceticism  to 
estheticism.  Kyoto  has  for  ages  been  a famous  silk 
centre,  and  as  a matter  of  course  we  spent  an  afternoon 
visiting  some  of  the  places  where  it  is  woven.  In  a 
country  where  silk  is  made  in  such  enormous  quantities, 
both  for  home  wear  and  for  export,  one  would  expect 
to  find  enormous  factories  with  complicated  machinery. 
But  Japan  has  not  yet  reached  that  stage  of  “civiliza- 
tion” where  thousands  work  for  one  capitalist.  The 


FASCINATIONS  OF  KYOTO 


2G1 


largest  place  we  could  find  here  had  only  about  twenty 
looms.  Men,  women,  and  girls  were  employed,  the 
women  for  the  reeling,  the  men  for  the  weaving.  It  is 
slow  work.  Of  some  of  the  finer  kinds  we  saw,  an  expert 
can  weave  only  five  feet  a day.  It  was  fascinating  to 
note  the  skill  and  taste  with  which  they  wove  in  the 
patterns  of  flowers  and  other  ornaments.  I asked  the 
price  of  some  superb  velvet  just  finished,  and  was  told 
it  was  fourteen  feet  for  ten  dollars.  We  visited  three 
factories  and  were  in  each  case  courteously  escorted  by 
the  proprietor.  It  is  very  warm  in  these  places,  con- 
sequently the  men  wear  only  a loin  cloth,  and  the  women 
too  are  unclothed  to  the  waist.  Most  of  them  would 
have  been  more  attractive  if  they  had  concealed  their 
physical  charms  ; the  silk  weavers  evidently  do  not,  like 
the  innkeepers,  choose  their  assistants  for  their  beauty 
of  form  and  face. 

Ky5to  has  been  famed  many  centuries  for  the  beauty 
and  grace  of  its  women ; and  with  justice.  In  Japan, 
as  in  America,  in  Spain,  in  Italy,  in  Germany,  the 
women  become  more  beautiful,  the  farther  we  go  south. 
This  seems  to  be  a law  of  nature  which  can  only  be 
accounted  for  by  the  beautifying  effect  of  abundant 
sunshine  and  open-air  life  all  the  year  round.  Toky5 
is  not  exactly  a northern  city,  yet  Kyoto  lies  three 
hundred  miles  south  of  it,  and  to  a trained  eye  there  is 
a perceptible  difference  in  the  average  physiognomy. 
In  all  probability  Japan  was  originally  peopled  by 
Malayans  coming  from  the  south  and  by  Tartars  and 
other  Mongolians  coming  from  the  north  and  west. 
Of  the  Tartar  type,  which  is  perhaps  the  ugliest  in  the 
world,  one  sees  many  specimens  in  northern  Japan, 
while  the  Malayan  type,  physically  one  of  the  most 


262 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


beautiful  in  the  world,  prevails  largely  in  the  south, 
with  its  more  regular  features  and  straight,  large  black 
eyes.  True,  the  ordinary  pictures  on  fans,  screens,  and 
vases  would  lead  one  to  think  that  all  these  women 
have  absurdly  oblique,  almond-shaped  eyes  ; but  these 
pictures  do  not  correspond  to  reality,  Japanese  artists 
being  realists  only  in  their  paintings  of  plants  and 
animals,  whereas  in  human  drawings  they  are  idealists, 
or  rather  conventionalists. 

In  Kyoto  even  more  than  in  Tdkyo,  I was  struck  by 
the  fact  that,  when  Japanese  girls  are  very  pretty  they 
greatly  resemble  Spanish  beauties  in  their  sparkling 
black  eyes,  dark  tresses,  olive  complexion,  petite  stature, 
and  exquisite  grace,  at  least  from  the  waist  up.  The 
resemblance  would  be  greatly  heightened  if  they  would 
copy  Spanish  ways  of  arranging  the  hair  and  give  up 
their  stereotyped  style  of  combing  it  back  from  the 
forehead  — the  most  trying  and  least  becoming  of  all 
modes  of  coiffure.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  too,  that  Jap- 
anese women  will  before  long  realize  the  vulgarity 
of  smearing  their  hair  into  a dead,  greasy  mess  with 
their  bad-smelling  pomade  — a custom  which  puts 
them  on  a level  with  our  “ perfumed  ” masculine  bar- 
bers’ pets,  and  makes  one  sometimes  dread  to  be  near 
them. 

The  Kyoto  beauty  uses  her  fan  a good  deal  as  a 
cooler,  but  less  frequently  in  the  Andalusian  way, 
holding  it  up  as  a sunshade.  She  is  more  apt  to 
use  it  to  keep  her  lord  and  master  cool  and  com- 
fortable. Imagine  an  Andalusian  beauty  doing  such 
a thing  — or  an  American  ! We  have  spoiled  our 
women,  gentlemen  ! I assure  you  there  is  nothing 
more  cosy  and  delightful  in  the  world  than  to  recline 


FASCINATIONS  OF  KYOTO 


263 


on  soft  white  mats  on  a sultry  summer  afternoon, 
with  one  bright-eyed  music  girl  to  entertain  you,  a 
nimble  second  maiden  to  bring  you  dainties  to  eat  and 
drink,  and  a patient  third  beauty  to  cool  your  brow 
with  her  gayly  ornamented  large  fan.  Why  have  we 
voluntarily  given  up  man’s  aboriginal  and  inalienable 
right  to  such  luxuries  ? And  yet  our  spoiled  and  petted 
women  are  clamoring  for  their  “ rights  ” ! 0 tempora , 

0 mores  ! 

I asked  Mr.  Yabi  what  lie  thought  of  Kyoto  girls. 
He  said  the  general  impression  among  his  countrymen 
was  that  the  Tokyo  girls  are  more  lively,  the  Kyoto 
girls  more  gentle  and  pretty.  But  with  the  modern 
decline  of  Kyoto,  he  added,  many  of  the  famous 
beauties  had  emigrated  to  richer  cities,  especially  to 
the  neighboring  Osaka,  the  commercial  metropolis  of 
the  country.  We  visited  some  of  the  leading  pho- 
tographers in  Kyoto  to  add  to  my  collection  of  Japanese 
beauties.  In  each  place  they  put  before  us  a number 
of  black  lacquer  trays,  each  containing  a dozen  photo- 
graphs of  popular  geishas.  You  can  buy  not  only  the 
pictures,  but  the  girls  too  — that  is,  you  can  secure 
their  address  and  get  them  to  assist  at  a banquet  with 
their  song,  samisen,  or  dance.  Private  pictures  are  not 
sold  by  these  photographers  — a fact  which  some  that 

1 saw  made  me  regret  exceedingly,  for  they  were  faces 
of  the  most  refined  and  fascinating  beauty. 

The  charming  geishas  of  Kyoto  are  also  specially 
famed  for  their  skill  as  musicians ; but  when  I told  Mr. 
Yabi  that  I would  like  to  hear  some  of  their  music,  he 
asked:  “Would  you  not  rather  hear  one  of  the  blind 
musicians?  They  play  even  better  than  the  girls.” 
After  a brief  struggle  with  my  conscience,  I decided 


2G4 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


that  I would  in  this  case  sacrifice  the  love  of  beauty  to 
art  for  art’s  sake.  So  a messenger  was  sent  to  a famous 
blind  musician,  and  in  the  afternoon  he  arrived  punctu- 
ally at  the  hour  designated.  He  had  a koto  and  a 
samisen,  — the  latter  in  five  pieces,  so  that  it  could  be 
carried  in  a little  box.  But  it  was  his  koto  that  I 
specially  wanted  to  hear.  He  was  reputed  the  best 
player  in  town;  and  when  he  began  to  tune  up  in  the 
hotel  parlor,  all  the  guests,  as  well  as  the  native  attend- 
ants, came  in,  or  crowded  around  the  door.  The  player 
squatted  on  the  floor  and  had  his  instrument  lying  flat 
before  him. 

The  koto  is  the  Japanese  harp.  In  national  estima- 
tion and  artistic  value  it  is  related  to  the  samisen  as 
a piano  is  to  a banjo.  As  it  lies  on  the  mats  it  looks 
somewhat  like  a large  zither.  Under  each  of  its  thir- 
teen strings  is  a movable  bridge,  by  means  of  which  the 
pitch  can  be  raised  or  lowered.  However  widely  the 
music  of  the  Japanese  may  differ  from  our  own,  their 
sense  of  pitch  is  as  keen  as  ours ; the  slightest  devia- 
tion was  at  once  detected  by  the  ear  of  our  player  and 
corrected  by  moving  the  bridge  without  interrupting 
the  playing.  To  my  ears  there  seemed  to  be  more 
rhythm  than  melody  in  his  music,  and  the  rhythm  had 
the  irregularity  or  lack  of  symmetry  characteristic  of 
all  Japanese  art.  Still,  there  was  an  occasional  melodic 
strain  which  seemed  quite  definite,  and,  what  was  more 
interesting  still,  there  were  suggestions  of  harmony  here 
and  there,  — fifths,  sixths,  and  minor  sevenths.  His 
glissando  effects  were  as  dainty  as  Paderewski’s  in  a 
Liszt  rhapsody.  He  was  indeed  a great  virtuoso,  and 
there  was  to  me  a genuine,  though  somewhat  bewilder- 
ing, pleasure  in  listening  to  him.  Toward  the  end  of 


KOTO  AND  SAMISEN  PLAYERS 


FASCINATIONS  OF  KYOTO 


265 


his  last  piece  he  worked  himself  up  to  a climax  that 
was  really  admirable,  and  was  more  like  our  own  music 
than  anything  I had  heard  in  Japan. 

1 came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  koto  is  really  a 
charming  instrument,  which  could  not  fail  to  find  favor 
in  our  own  musical  circles.  Of  course  there  are  kotos 
and  kotos,  as  there  are  pianos  and  pianos;  there  are 
four  principal  kinds,  with  seven  minor  varieties,  the 
cost  varying  from  $5  to  $500.  Our  player’s  instru- 
ment was  probably  one  of  the  best ; it  had  a rich, 
sonorous  tone  very  agreeable  to  the  ear  after  the 
twang  of  the  samisens  that  filled  the  ear  every  night 
like  the  chirping  of  multitudinous  insects.  After 
every  piece  or  two  our  blind  virtuoso  drank  a glass 
of  sweetened  water.  A boy  kneeling  beside  him  kept 
him  cool  with  a huge  fan,  while  another  boy  in  pictur- 
esque attire  provided  similarly  for  my  comfort. 

Other  artists  called  on  me  at  the  hotel,  uninvited, 
but  none  the  less  welcome.  One  of  them  brought 
some  exquisite  cloisonne  vases,  at  prices  about  one- 
tenth  of  Avhat  they  would  be  in  New  York.  Another 
unrolled  for  me  a superb  collection  of  silk  kakemonos 
painted  with  cherry  blossoms,  lotos,  autumnal  maple 
twigs,  and  so  on.  The  silk  itself  cost  him  a dollar 
apiece,  but  he  asked  only  $2.50  and  $3.50  for  them. 
These  poor  artists  had  evidently  seen  better  days,  when 
Kyoto  was  still  the  capital. 

Our  evenings  were  devoted  to  sight-seeing  along 
the  principal  streets,  especially  one  which  seemed  to 
be  the  fashionable  promenade  for  all  classes.  Here  we 
found  the  same  clean,  well-behaved  crowds  as  in 
T5ky5,  the  same  gentle  curiosity  in  our  doings,  the 
same  rows  of  booths  in  the  street,  with  toys  and 


266 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


toilet  articles,  the  same  dime  museums  and  theatres,  the 
same  ice,  tea,  and  fruit  stands  — green  persimmons 
being  the  seasonable  novelty  on  the  latter  — and,  of 
course,  watermelons  everywhere.  Here,  too,  the  crowds 
were  so  dense  that  we  had  to  leave  our  kurumas  and 
walk.  The  whole  street  was  brilliant  with  flaming 
torches  and  paper  lanterns,  and  when  we  came  hack 
to  the  hotel  on  the  hillside,  late  at  night,  this  street 
could  he  distinctly  traced,  from  end  to  end,  by  the 
string  of  brilliant  lights,  threading  its  way  through  the 
comparative  darkness  of  the  rest  of  the  city.  Kyoto, 
in  the  dark,  is  a dreamy  Oriental  nocturne.  It  is 
pleasant  to  sit  on  the  hotel  piazza  and  think  of  all 
the  romances,  comedies,  and  tragedies,  that  are  being 
enacted  in  the  thousands  of  humble  houses  that  lie 
between  the  hill  from  which  we  gaze  and  the  low 
mountains,  faintly  visible  beyond  in  the  rising  mist ; 
pleasant  to  review  the  kaleidoscopic  scenes  of  the  day, 
amid  which  only  one  is  disquieting  — the  rather  fre- 
quent funeral  processions  we  had  passed  in  the  streets 
— two  men,  in  each  case,  carrying  on  their  shoulders 
a kago-like  box  in  which  the  corpse  sits  upright  (invisi- 
ble, of  course),  followed  by  a number  of  mourners. 
Although  we  had  been  told  at  the  hotel  that  the 
cholera  had  not  yet  reached  the  city,  these  funerals 
aroused  suspicions  which  afterwards  proved  to  be  well 
founded. 


LAKE  AND  LOTOS  POND 


OTSU PUNS  AND  POETRY JAPAN’S  LARGEST  LAKE 

ACRES  OF  LOTOS  FLOWERS DIFFICULT  TO  PAINT  — THE 

LOTOS  IN  JAPAN,  INDIA,  AND  AMERICA 

In  order  to  complete  the  round  of  famous  places  in 
Japan,  we  had  intended  to  extend  our  trip  to  Osaka, 
“the  Venice  of  Japan”;  Nagasaki,  where  for  more  than 
two  centuries  the  small  Dutch  colony  formed  the  only 
connecting  link  between  Japan  and  Europe;  and  the 
picturesque  Inland  Sea.  But  as  the  ravages  of  cholera 
were  increasing  in  all  this  region  at  an  alarming  rate, 
we  reluctantly  gave  up  this  part  of  the  projected 
journey,  and  decided  to  cross  Lake  Biwa,  and  then  return 
to  Yokohama  and  seek  a safe  retreat  at  Miyanoshita,  or 
some  other  mountain  resort.  In  pursuance  of  this  plan, 
we  took  the  evening  train  to  Otsu,  the  largest  city  on 
Lake  Biwa.  I do  not  know  what  “ Otsu  ” means,  but 
it  ought  to  mean  “city  of  smells”  or  “poverty  city”  ; 
for  smells  and  poverty  seem  to  be  its  most  striking 
features,  unless  it  be  the  dangerous-looking  wells  in  the 
back  yards  — ideal  bacterial  breeding  places.  In  this 
stifling  atmosphere  of  bad  odors,  I was  glad  to  hear  that 
the  Bon-odori  festival  was  to  be  celebrated  at  Otsu  that 
very  evening.  I shall  not  apologize  for  that  Eurasian  pun, 
for  in  perverse  Japan,  the  pun,  as  a matter  of  course,  is 
a respectable  and  highly  esteemed  literary  condiment. 

267 


268 


LOTOS -TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Indeed,  scholars  tell  us  that  Japanese  wit  consists 
almost  entirely  of  punning  ; that  the  different  kinds  of 
pun  are  classified  and  explained  in  a special  treatise 
called  “ The  Philosophy  of  Wit  ” ; and  that  as  early  as 
the  eighth  century  dexterity  in  punning  was  the  most 
important  element  in  verse  making.  It  was  probably 
this  antiquity  and  respectability  of  the  habit,  combined 
with  the  national  amiability,  that  caused  my  Japanese 
companion  to  laugh  at  my  bon-odori  pun,  just  as  he 
had  laughed  on  previous  occasions  when  I told  him  that 
it  was  impossible  to  buy  furniture  in  Japan  without 
being  bamboozled,  and  that  the  oddest  thing  about  a 
Japanese  fire  is  that  the  go-downs  are  the  only  build- 
ings that  do  not  go  down.  Mr.  Yabi  was  kind  enough 
to  say  that  if  I had  been  born  in  Japan  I would  probably 
have  been  a poet.  Quien  sabe  ? 

On  account  of  threatening  rain  the  Bon-odori  festival 
— an  annual  dance  and  musical  carnival  of  villagers 
and  peasants  — did  not  take  place,  after  all.  In  the 
morning  we  found  ourselves  steaming  northward  on  the 
largest  body  of  fresh  water  in  Japan,  its  dimensions  being 
thirty -six  miles  by  twelve,  or  about  the  size  of  the  Lake 
of  Geneva.  In  beauty  and  grandeur,  however,  it  cannot 
be  compared  with  the  Swiss  lakes  of  Geneva,  Thun,  or 
Lucerne,  not  to  speak  of  our  Californian  Lake  Tahoe. 
Yet  it  is  not  strange  that  the  Japanese,  who  have  never 
seen  a grander  lake,  admire  Biwa.  Its  water  is  perfectly 
sweet,  yet  its  peculiar  green  color  makes  it  look  like  a 
bay  of  the  ocean.  This  verdant  hue  partly  compensates 
for  the  absence  of  luxurious  green  vegetation  on  the 
sides  of  the  mountains  which  frame  it  in.  There  is  con- 
siderable variety  of  form  in  these  mountains,  but  on  the 
whole  they  are  rather  commonplace,  and  I do  not  won- 


LAKE  AND  LOTOS  POND 


269 


der  that  the  Japanese  poets,  in  celebrating  the  “ eight 
beauties  ” of  Biwa,  should  have  laid  stress  on  adventi- 
tious features  of  the  mise-en-scene , such  as  the  autumn 
moon,  mountain  snow,  sunsets,  evening  bells,  rain, 
summer  breezes,  wild  geese,  and  boats  sailing  on  its 
surface.  We  saw  many  of  these  boats,  especially  at 
the  widening  upper  part  of  the  lake.  If  they  can  catch 
fish  enough  to  feed  the  innumerable  villages  along  the 
shore,  the  lake  must  indeed  be  inexhaustible. 

When  we  arrived  at  Hikone,  near  the  upper  end  of 
the  lake,  we  left  the  boat  and  took  kurumas  to  a 
famous  tea  house  about  a mile  away,  noted  for  its  land- 
scape garden  with  lakes  and  bridges,  and  for  its  fine 
lotos  pond  covering  several  acres,  the  largest  and 
loveliest  I had  seen  in  Japan.  It  had  once  been  a 
Daimyo’s  palace.  Its  compartments  were  as  numerous 
as  the  rooms  of  an  American  seaside  hotel,  and  we  would 
have  lost  our  way  hopelessly  in  its  labyrinths  had  not  a 
young  musum6  served  as  our  guide.  Leaving  us  finally 
in  a room  commanding  a line  view  of  the  lotos  pond, 
she  went  back  to  fetch  tea  and  tobacco  for  us.  She  had 
so  much  beauty  that  I easily  persuaded  her  that  she 
would  not  suffer  if  she  allowed  me  to  carry  off  some 
of  it  in  my  camera. 

The  beauty  of  that  lotos  pond  in  full  bloom  I shall 
never  forget ; unluckily  my  camera  was  quite  as  unable 
to  register  it  as  its  faint  but  exquisite  perfume.  The 
reader  has  perhaps  wondered  why,  after  naming  my 
book  Lotos-Time  in  Japan , I should  not  have  attempted 
to  describe  the  lotos  more  fully.  But  how  can  any  one 
be  expected  to  sketch  this  marvellous  flower  in  words, 
when  even  a great  painter  can  give  but  a vague  idea  of 
its  beauty?  No  one  has  painted  Japanese  scenes  more 


270 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


realistically  and  picturesquely  than  Mr.  Alfred  Parsons, 
yet  read  his  confession : — 

“ The  lotos  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  plants  which  it  has  ever 
been  my  lot  to  try  and  paint ; the  flowers  are  at  their  best  only  in 
the  early  morning,  and  each  blossom  after  it  has  opened  closes 
again  before  noon  the  first  day,  and  on  the  second  day  its  petals 
drop.  The  leaves  are  so  large  and  so  full  of  modelling  that  it  is 
impossible  to  generalize  them  as  a mass ; each  one  has  to  be  care- 
fully studied,  and  every  breath  of  wind  disturbs  their  delicate 
balance  and  completely  alters  their  forms.  Besides  this  their 
glaucous  surface,  like  that  of  a cabbage  leaf,  reflects  every  passing 
phase  of  the  sky,  and  is  constantly  changing  in  color  as  clouds 
pass  over.” 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  what  the  Japanese  would  do 
without  the  lotos.  In  their  art  it  is  almost  as  frequent 
a subject  as  Fuji.  The  children  use  the  big  leaves  for 
sunshades,  the  seeds  for  marbles,  or  to  eat,  while  the 
adults  would  answer  the  conundrum,  “when  is  a pond 
not  a pond  ? ” with  “ when  it  has  no  lotos  in  it.”  The 
one  blemish  in  Professor  Chamberlain’s  delightful  Things 
Japanese  is  the  omission  of  all  reference  to  the  lotos  •, 
for  is  not  the  lotos  of  all  things  the  most  Japanese? 
True,  it  is  an  importation  from  India,  and  does  not 
grow  wild  in  Japan ; but  like  other  foreign  things  which 
the  Japanese  adopted  centuries  ago,  they  have  made  it 
peculiarly  their  own  ; and  since  the  Japanization  of  our 
art  and  furniture  began  we  have  gradually  learned  to 
take  the  Japanese  esthetic  view  of  the  lotos,  dropping 
the  sensual  gastronomic  suggestiveness  given  to  it  by 
the  older  poets,  who  relied  on  the  tales  of  Herodotus 
and  Homer  about  the  lotos-eaters  who  ate  the  fruit,  and 
drank  the  wine  made  of  a special  variety  of  the  plant. 
In  India,  too  (and  in  China),  the  lotos  has  an  esthetic 
significance,  being  the  emblem  of  female  beauty.  In 


LOTOS  POND 


LAKE  AND  LOTOS  POND 


271 


Southern  India  it  is  believed  that  the  color  of  the  red 
lotos  comes  from  the  blood  of  Siva  when  he  was 
wounded  by  Cupid’s  arrows.  One  of  the  loveliest  be- 
quests of  Buddhism  to  Japan  is  the  symbolical  idea 
that  as  this  exquisitely  pure  and  fragrant  flower  grows 
out  of  the  mud  of  a pond,  so  the  human  mind  should 
rise  above  earthly  conditions  into  the  pure  regions  of 
spiritual  life.  The  images  of  Buddha  are  usually  seated 
on  a lotos,  and  with  the  worship  of  Buddha  the  adora- 
tion of  the  lotos  flower  has  impressed  itself  on  the 
whole  nation. 

America  is  not  likely  to  be  converted  to  Buddhism, 
but  I predict  that  early  in  the  twentieth  century  lotos 
ponds  will  be  as  frequent  in  America  as  they  are  now 
in  Japan.  It  is  perhaps  not  generally  known  that 
there  is  a species  of  the  lotos  which  grows  wild  in 
America,  but  it  is  shy  and  rare,  and  does  not  flourish  so 
well  as  the  imported  lotos.  Eight  years  ago  an  attempt 
was  made  to  acclimatize  the  Japanese  lotos  in  the 
ponds  of  Central  Park  in  New  York.  Ignorant,  appar- 
ently, of  the  fact  that  it  is  a very  hardy  plant  which 
flourishes  even  in  the  Siberian  climate  of  Yezo,  the 
gardeners  for  a few  years  carefully  housed  the  roots  in 
winter.  Now  they  allow  them  to  remain  undisturbed, 
the  result  being  that  there  are  already  over  five  thou- 
sand plants  in  the  Park.  Indeed,  they  grow  so  luxuri- 
antly that  some  of  the  plants  have  to  be  weeded  out 
every  year.  The  Homeric  lotos  made  the  companions 
of  Ulysses  forget  their  home,  but  these  lotos  plants 
give  to  parts  of  Central  Park  an  exotic  local  color  that 
must  remind  our  Japanese  visitors  of  home.  I believe 
that  these  plants  have  a hygienic  value,  too,  for  the 
roots  must  destroy  the  foulness  in  which  they  live,  and 


272 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


it  seems  to  me  that  these  ponds  are  less  offensive'  than 
they  used  to  be.  1 hope,  too,  that  American  epicures 
will  ere  long  ask  for  the  lotos  root,  because  that  would 
help  to  multiply  the  number  of  fragrant  lotos  ponds. 

The  lotos  is  only  one  of  the  many  desirable  gifts 
Japan  can  send  us.  The  remaining  pages  of  this  volume 
will  be  devoted  to  a consideration  of  some  of  the  other 
flowers  of  civilization  which  we  might  advantageously 
transplant  to  our  own  gardens. 


ARE  THE  JAPANESE  TOPSY-TURVY?  . 


TWO  COMIC  INCIDENTS SOCIAL  ANTIPODISMS A PER- 
VERSE LANGUAGE A JAPANESE  LETTER LACQUER  AND 

WIND WHEN  WE  ARE  TOPSY-TURVY  — HOW  TO  STABLE 

HORSES THE  PROPER  WAY  TO  ADDRESS  LETTERS 

Congreve  probably  knew  little  or  nothing  about  the 
Japanese,  yet  he  neatly  summed  up  a notion  still  prev- 
alent about  them  when  he  wrote  : “ Your  Antipodes  are 
a good  rascally  sort  of  topsie-turvy  Fellows  — If  I had 
a Bumper  I’d  stand  upon  my  Head  and  drink  a Health 
to  ’em.”  This  notion  was  naturally  confirmed  by  the 
“Mikado”  of  W.  S.  Gilbert,  whose  specialty  is  topsy- 
turviness ; and  many  of  the  incidents  related  in  the 
present  volume  bear  it  out.  But  the  funniest  tale 
remains  to  be  told.  It  was  related  to  me  by  a Yoko- 
hama friend.  One  evening  he  arrived  at  a mountain 
inn  with  an  educated  Japanese  companion.  They  had 
been  caught  in  the  rain,  and  their  trousers  were  wet 
half  through.  It  was  too  early  to  go  to  bed,  and  no 
change  of  clothes  was  at  hand ; so  what  does  the  Japa- 
nese student  do  ? He  takes  off  his  trousers,  turns  them 
inside  out  and  puts  them  on  again,  explaining  this 
strange  proceeding  by  saying  that  he  was  afraid  he 
might  catch  cold ! This  is  almost  as  perverse  as  an  in- 
cident related  by  the  Rev.  W.  E.  Griffis.  When  he  first 
arrived  in  Japan,  a number  of  foreigners  had  been 

273 


T 


274 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


killed  by  chauvinistic  fanatics,  wherefore  the  govern- 
ment took  special  measures  to  protect  the  imported 
teachers  ; and  this  is  the  way  it  was  done  : “ One  bette 
(armed  man)  accompanied  one  foreigner,  four  of  them 
went  with  two,  and  eight  with  three.  One  would  sup- 
pose that  a single  foreigner  was  in  greater  danger  than 
when  with  a companion.” 

Japan  is  a land  without  bakers  and  butchers.  Rice 
takes  the  place  of  bread,  fish,  and  meat.  No  meat,  no 
hides  ; hence  shoes  are  made  by  the  carpenters.  If  you 
are  ill  and  call  on  the  doctor,  you  pay  for  the  medicine 
only  ; if  he  calls  on  you,  he  charges  no  fee,  but  expects 
a present,  as  it  is  considered  more  honorable  to  take  a 
present  than  a fee.  There  are  no  special  drug  stores. 
The  merchant  comes  to  the  customer.  Tradespeople 
are  lower  in  the  social  scale  than  artisans  or  farmers. 
Our  society  people  pride  themselves  on  their  fast  horses; 
the  Japanese  consider  it  vulgar  to  ride  fast.  Theatrical 
performances  begin  in  the  morning.  Very  long  calls 
are  in  good  form.  A woman  indicates  her  exact  age 
in  dress  and  coiffure.  Dancing  is  done  by  hired  girls, 
courtship  carried  on  by  proxy.  There  is  no  harm  in 
being  seen  naked,  but  a kiss  is  always  improper.  Man 
is  heavenly,  woman  earthly.  Filial  love  is  above  con- 
jugal love ; a bride  wears  mourning,  because  she  leaves 
her  parents.  A widower  mourns  his  wife  three  months, 
a widow  must  mourn  her  husband  thirteen  months. 
Infants  under  three  months  are  not  mourned  for  at  all. 

Japanese  religions  dwell  together  in  peace.  Chris- 
tian missionaries  aver  that  “ no  sermon  can  be  prolix 
enough  to  stay  the  insatiable  appetite  of  their  converts.” 
Ghosts  are  not  feared,  but  welcomed.  Theatres  and  tem- 
ples are  good  neighbors.  In  literature  plagiarism  is 


ARE  THE  JAPANESE  TOPSY-TURVY  ? 


275 


considered  a merit,  because  it  proves  a good  memory. 
A poet’s  productions  are  not  as  a rule  published  sepa- 
rately, but  as  part  of  an  anthology  of  all  the  poets  of 
his  time.  The  pun  is  the  most  esteemed  form  of  wit. 
In  school,  dissatisfied  pupils  dismiss  their  teacher. 

Heine  wrote  that  if  the  Romans  had  been  obliged  to 
learn  Latin  they  could  not  have  found  time  to  conquer 
the  world.  But  Latin  is  child’s  play  compared  with 
Japanese,  which  the  early  missionaries  were  convinced 
had  been  invented  by  the  devil  to  prevent  them  from 
converting  the  natives.  One  variety  of  American  news- 
paper humor  consists  in  translating  jokes  verbatim  from 
German  or  French  papers  ; for  instance  : “ Bachelor  (in 
restaurant)  — 4 1 know  at  all  not,  wherefore  a man 
marry  should ! One  can  certainly  also  quite  well  alone 
two  portions  eat.’  ” This,  at  any  rate,  is  intelligible, 
but  what  the  logical  process  of  the  Japanese  mind  is, 
may  be  gathered  from  this  letter  from  Japan  which  a 
New  York  merchant  has  kindly  allowed  me  to  copy : — 

“ We  shall  present  to  your  company  the  bamboo  fishing  rod,  a 
net  basket  and  a reel,  as  we  have  just  convenience ; all  those  were 
very  rough  and  simply  to  your  laughing  for  your  kind  reply  which 
you  sent  us  the  catalogue  of  fishing  tackles  last,  etc. 

“ Wishing  we  that  now  at  Japan  there  it  was  not  in  prevailing 
fish  gaming,  but  fishermen.  In  scarcely  therefore  but  we  do  not 
measure  how  the  progression  of  the  germ  of  the  fishing  game 
beforehand.  Therefore,  we  may  yield  of  feeling  to  restock  in  my 
store  your  countries  fishing  tackles,  etc. 

“ Should  you  have  the  kindness  to  send  a such  farther  country, 
even  in  a few  partake  when  we  send  the  money  in  ordering  of 
them  should  you.” 

As  the  reader  may  possibly  suspect,  this  is  an  order 
for  fishing  tackle.  The  merchant  informs  me  that  he 

O 

filled  the  order  and  got  his  money  ! But  this  mixing 


276 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


of  words,  like  dice  in  a box,  is  only  one  phase  of  the 
total  depravity  of  the  Japanese  language.  In  this  lan- 
guage arimas  means  pretty  much  anything  you  please, 
— “I  am,”  “you  are,”  “she  is,”  etc.,  while  arimasen 
means  the  opposite.  In  English  “ I ” is  “ I ” for  short 
and  good,  but  in  Tokyo  a man  says  watakushi  in  speak- 
ing to  a friend,  ore  in  addressing  an  inferior,  temage  if 
he  wants  to  be  humble,  boJcu  if  he  is  a student  among 
students,  wattchi  among  rustics,  wataslii  or  oira  to  be 
familiar,  and  so  on.  Japanese  grammar,  in  short,  re- 
minds one  a good  deal  of  the  joke  played  on  a French 
emigrant  by  an  American  wag  who  told  him  on  the 
steamer,  by  way  of  illustrating  the  difficulties  of  the 
English  language,  that  the  verb  “ to  go  ” was  conju- 
gated as  follows : “ I go,  you  leave,  he  departs,  we  clear 
out,  you  skedaddle,  they  absquatulate.”  The  French- 
man took  the  next  steamer  back  to  Havre. 

Nature  herself  occasionally  assumes  a rascally  sort 
of  topsy-turviness.  Lacquer  is  the  most  Japanese  of 
all  products  — to  japan  means  to  lacquer.  And  what 
does  lacquer  do  ? It  flies  in  the  face  of  all  the  laws  of 
nature ; it  refuses  to  dry  in  the  sun,  but  amiably  sub- 
mits to  any  amount  of  desiccation  if  you  humor  its 
whim  by  supplying  a damp  atmosphere.  Again,  the 
prevailing  wind  is  south  in  summer,  north  in  winter. 
For  this,  indeed,  the  most  fanatic  admirer  of  Japan 
could  offer  no  excuse. 

But  the  oddity  is  not  always  on  the  side  of  the 
Japanese.  Often  their  way  is  as  wise  as  ours,  some- 
times wiser.  Circumstances  alter  cases.  We  eat  rice 
with  sugar  and  cream,  the  Japanese  eat  it  with  pickles. 
Pickles  are  cheaper,  and  in  a hot  climate  more  agreeable 
and  digestible  than  cloying  sweets.  Japanese  kitchen 


ARE  THE  JAPANESE  TOPSY-TURVY? 


277 


girls  wash  their  dishes  in  cold  water ; it  is  cheaper  than 
hot  water,  which  is  not  needed,  as  no  butter  or  grease  is 
used  in  their  cooking.  We  build  our  houses  of  the 
solidest  materials  we  can  find  — iron  and  stone,  they 
build  theirs  of  wood,  paper,  and  bamboo ; our  walls  are 
fixed,  theirs  movable.  Our  houses  are  more  sensible  in 
solid  America,  theirs  in  earthquake-shaken  Japan.  In 
entering  a house  we  take  off  the  hat,  they  the  shoes; 
their  way  is  cleaner,  and  we  admit  it  practically  by  now 
wearing  rubbers  on  muddy  days  and  removing  them  at 
the  door.  Japanese  women  make  the  mistake  of  pre- 
ferring straight  hair  to  curls ; but  they  atone  for  that 
by  preferring  a natural  waist  to  a wasp  waist.  Court- 
ship by  proxy  is  an  absurdity  which  is  largely  responsi- 
ble for  the  fact  that  there  is  one  divorce  to  every  three 
Japanese  marriages ; but  I can  see  some  sense,  in  a hot 
climate,  in  hiring  dancers  instead  of  dancing  yourself. 
It  is  absurd  to  begin  meals  with  wine  and  sweets ; but 
I think  it  is  more  sensible  to  drink  soup  out  of  a 
lacquer  bowl  than  to  sip  it  from  the  side  of  a spoon 
instead  of  from  the  end  as  intended  by  the  spoon- 
makers.  It  is  foolish  for  the  Japanese  to  make  the 
abdomen  the  seat  of  the  mental  faculties,  but  do  we  not 
locate*  the  soul  in  the  heart?  We  prefer  sitting  to 
kneeling;  but  the  Japanese  attitude  keeps  the  feet 
warm  in  cold  weather. 

The  Japanese  begin  the  year  in  spring,  we  in  mid- 
winter. Which  is  topsy-turvy?  We  think  it  strange 
that  they  should  cultivate  plum  and  cherry  trees  for 
their  flowers,  not  their  fruits  ; but  their  cherries  are  like 
choke  cherries,  and  even  if  they  were  good  to  eat,  is 
not  “cherry  blossom  viewing”  more  refined  and  refining 
than  munching  cherries  and  spitting  out  the  stones? 


278 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Consider  the  Japanese  way  of  carrying  babies  on  the 
back.  Is  it  not  much  more  sensible  than  our  way, 
since  it  leaves  the  carrier  the  free  use  of  her  arms  and 
hands?  Take  another  case.  Everybody  has  heard  of 
the  showman  who  fooled  the  rustics  by  advertising  a 
horse  that  had  “ the  tail  where  the  head  ought  to  be, 
and  the  head  where  the  tail  ought  to  be.”  He  had 
simply  turned  the  horse  round  in  the  stable.  That  is 
the  Japanese  way  of  placing  a horse,  and  it  is  more 
rational  than  our  way.  He  can  be  fed  from  a suspended 
sack  or  bucket,  the  hostler  runs  no  risk  of  being  kicked, 
and  the  horse  is  in  proper  position  to  be  taken  out 
and  hitched  to  the  wagon.  Our  fire  companies  have 
admitted  our  topsy-turviness  by  adopting  the  Japanese 
way. 

I would  even  go  so  far  as  to  approve  of  the  Japanese 
way  of  beginning  a book  or  newspaper  at  what  we  call  the 
end.  I speak  from  practical  experience.  For  a number 
of  years  part  of  my  work  in  a large  newspaper  office 
consisted  in  reading  all  the  English,  French,  and  Ger- 
man exchanges.  After  a while  I found  that  I had 
unconsciously  got  into  the  habit  of  beginning  at  the 
last  page,  in  spite  of  obvious  obstacles.  Finally,  — for 
I must  stop,  not  for  lack  of  material,  but  of  space,  — I 
think  we  are  unpardonably  topsy-turvy  in  the  way  we 
address  letters.  When  you  mail  a letter,  who  gets  it 
first?  The  postal  clerk.  What  does  he  want  to  know 
first?  Whether  it  is  for  America  or  Europe.  What 
does  the  next  distributor  want  to  know  ? What  country 
in  Europe,  and  what  cit}r  it  is  for.  And  the  next  ? Ihe 
street,  of  course;  and  finally  the  number,  the  family  and 
the  individual.  Now  that  is  the  way  the  Japanese 
address  a letter.*  They  write  u America,  New  York, 


ARE  THE  JAPANESE  TOPSY-TURVY? 


279 


Broadway  210,  Brown  John  Mr.,”  while  we  say,  “ Mr. 
John  Brown,  210  Broadway,  New  York,”  thus  compel- 
ling everybody  who  handles  the  letter  to  read  it  from 
below  up,  contrary  to  all  our  literary  usages. 


THE  MOTE  AND  THE  BEAM 


SIX  HUNDRED  MISSIONARIES DENOMI  NATIONALISM AN 

AGNOSTIC’S  OPINION CREEDS  AND  DEEDS OCCIDENTAL 

BUNKUM SLAVERY  AND  INDIAN  WARS  GETTING  CIVIL- 
IZED  COMMERCIAL  AND  SEXUAL  MORALITY 

There  are  at  present  more  than  six  hundred  foreign 
missionaries  in  Japan.  Nevertheless,  the  reports  do  not 
show  a rapid  rate  of  conversion ; the  whole  number  of 
native  Christians  in  1894  was  only  105,000  in  a popula- 
tion of  more  than  40,000,000  — one  Christian  to  every 
400  Buddhists,  Shintoists,  and  agnostics.  The  converts 
are,  indeed,  largely  recruited  from  the  educated  classes, 
but  it  is  from  these  same  classes  that  the  strongest  oppo- 
sition to  the  new  religion  comes.  They  read  the  books 
of  Spencer,  Darwin,  Huxley,  and  other  leaders  of  Euro- 
pean thought,  and  declare  bluntly  that  they  do  not  care 
to  take  up  dogmas  which  such  thinkers  are  discarding. 
The  masses,  devoted  to  ancestor  worship,  shudder  at  the 
idea  that  their  beloved  ancestors  are  damned  forever, 
because  they  were  not  of  the  true  faith  : if  converted  at 
all,  they  prefer  the  more  liberal  creeds.  They  will  never 
adopt  a Puritan  Sunday,  or  believe  in  hanging  a cat  on 
Monday  for  catching  mice  on  Sunday.  Strict  Bud- 
dhists consider  attacks  on  their  beliefs  as  blasphemous 
as  Christians  do  attacks  on  theirs.  On  the  thoughtful 
Japanese  the  missionaries  are  apt  to  create  a bad  im- 

280 


THE  MOTE  AND  THE  BEAM 


281 


pression  by  their  sectarianism,  of  which  Mr.  Gordon,  in 
his  candid  volume  entitled  An  American  Missionary  in 
Japan , says : — 

“ It  is  doubtful  whether  the  world  has  ever  seen  or  ever  will  see 
a more  striking  exhibition  of  the  absurdities  of  Christian  denomi- 
nationalism ; more  than  thirty  different  societies,  all  bearing  the 
name  of  Christ,  but  each  with  something  peculiar  in  its  character, 
its  history,  or  its  methods,  working  in  one  small  country,  the 
majority  of  them  in  a single  city.” 

A Japanese  agnostic  said  to  me  one  day  : “We  have 
just  discarded  Buddhism,  with  its  numerous  sects  and 
factions,  and  we  are  not  going  to  take  up  a new  religion 
with  the  same  ecclesiastic  shortcomings.  If  the  mis- 
sionaries want  to  convert  us  to  Christianity,  would  it 
not  be  well  for  them  first  to  come  to  some  agreement  as 
to  what  Christianity  is  ? Another  question.  I read  the 
other  day  that  Berlin  has  only  eighty-eight  churches 
for  a population  of  nearly  two  millions ! I am  told 
that  other  Christian  cities  are  not  much  better  supplied. 
And  in  a New  York  newspaper  I have  read  the  serious 
assertion  that  the  majority  of  the  people,  and  more 
especially  the  educated  people,  are  as  much  pagans  as 
the  inhabitants  of  Tokyo.  Why  don't  the  missionaries 
Christianize  America  and  Europe  before  they  come  to 
Asia?” 

Three  centuries  ago,  when  Xavier  first  attempted  to 
introduce  Christianity,  the  Japanese  told  him  that  they 
would  hear  what  they  had  to  say  and  then  wait  and  see 
whether  their  conduct  agreed  with  their  words.  Is  the 
reason  of  the  slow  progress  of  Christianity  to  be  sought 
in  the  fact  that  foreigners  have  been  judged,  not  by 
their  creeds,  but  by  their  deeds  ? Does  not  the  Rev. 


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LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


W.  E.  Griffis  bear  witness  to  the  fact  that  “ in  their 
financial  and  warlike  operations  in  Japan,  the  foreign 
ministers  seem  to  have  acted  as  though  there  was  no 
day  of  judgment  ” ? To  take  only  one  instance,  as 
summed  up  by  Professor  Wigmore  : “ The  murder  of 
Richardson,  and  the  British  retaliatory  expedition  to 
Kagoshima,  which  bombarded  and  destroyed  an  innocent 
city  of  100,000  people,  in  revenge  for  the  well-provoked 
killing  of  a single  insolent  brute,  and  then  demanded 
and  obtained  $8,000,000  from  a poor  nation,  in  payment 
(grossly  excessive)  of  the  expenses  of  the  raid.”  Like 
other  Eastern  nations  the  Japanese  have  long  ago  found 
out  that,  as  Professor  Chamberlain  remarks,  “ Our 
Christian  and  humanitarian  professions  are  really  noth- 
ing but  bunkum.  The  history  of  India,  of  Egypt,  of 
Turkey,  is  no  secret  to  them.  More  familiar  still  is  the 
sweet  reasonableness  of  California’s  treatment  of  the 
Chinese.” 

And  what  can  the  Japanese  say  of  our  “ Christian  ” 
treatment  of  the  Indians  when  they  read  Mrs.  Jack- 
son’s 514  page  volume,  A Century  of  Dishonor , which 
tells  a tale  “ too  monstrous  to  believe  ” — a tale  which 
Bishop  Whipple  of  Minnesota  characterizes  as  a usad 
revelation  of  broken  faith,  of  violated  treaties,  and  of 
inhuman  deeds  of  violence  ” which  “ will  bring  a blush 
of  shame  to  the  cheeks  of  those  who  love  their  country  ” ; 
a tale  based  on  official  documents  — the  commission  ap- 
pointed in  1869  by  President  Grant  having  reported 
that  “in  our  Indian  wars,  almost  without  exception,  the 
first  aggressions  have  been  made  by  the  white  man  ” — 
a verdict  true  of  nineteen  out  of  twenty  cases  of  murder 
of  foreigners  in  Japan.  What  can  the  Japanese  say 
when  they  read  that  American  slavery,  which  John 


THE  MOTE  AND  THE  BEAM 


283 


Wesley  called  “ the  vilest  that  ever  saw  the  sun,”  with 
its  cruel  separation  of  families  and  abrogation  of  the 
marriage  institution,  was  not  abolished  till  1865,  or 
thirteen  years  after  our  “ civilization  ” was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  introduced  in  Japan  by  Perry’s 
gunboats?  Buddhist  Japan  never  had  any  slavery, 
while  Christian  America  has  only  just  abolished  hers, 
yet  we  are  always  throwing  stones  at  Japan. 

There  are  two  charges,  in  particular,  that  are  con- 
stantly flung  in  the  face  of  the  Japanese  by  foreign 
merchants  and  missionaries  — the  imputation  of  com- 
mercial and  sexual  immorality.  Yokohama  merchants 
love  to  contrast  the  honesty  of  the  Chinese  with  the 
rascality  of  the  Japanese.  Apropos , I have  just  read  an 
account  of  a lecture  given  in  London  by  Mr.  A.  G.  Stan- 
ton, of  the  condition  of  the  Chinese  tea  trade.  Thirty 
years  ago  China  had  practically  the  monopoly  of  the 
British  market,  and  to-day  it  supplies  only  12  per  cent 
of  the  imports,  mainly  because  of  the  commercial  dis- 
honesty of  the  Chinese,  their  growing  habit  of  selling 
ulie  tea.”  No  doubt,  Japanese  merchants  are  not 
always  models  of  honesty  and  reliability ; but  are  our 
merchants?  Foreigners  at  Yokohama  tell  you  that  the 
native  traders  are  apt  not  to  keep  their  promises  “ if  the 
market  goes  against  them  ” ; but  can  you  blame  a guile- 
less native  for  trying  to  get  out  of  a trap  which  may 
have  been  laid  for  him  by  sharp  “ Wall-Street  ” prac- 
tices by  foreigners  who  expect  to  buy  in  Japan  for  ten 
cents  and  sell  in  New  York  or  London  for  a dollar? 

Adulteration  of  food  is  another  form  of  commercial 
dishonesty  for  which  the  Japanese  have  been  censured. 
But  I doubt  very,  very  much  if  Japan  could  match  the 
report  of  Special  Agent  A.  J.  Wedderburn  of  the  United 


284 


LOTOS-TTME  IN  JAPAN 


States  Agricultural  Department,  which  reveals  the  hor- 
rible fact  that  the  amount  of  food  adulteration  “reaches 
the  immense  sum  of  $1,014,000,000  annually.  As  at 
least  ,2  per  cent  of  the  whole  is  deleterious  to  health, 
$135,200,000  constitutes  the  annual  amount  paid  by  the 
American  people  for  sacrifice  of  their  lives  or  injury  of 
their  health.” 

Sexual  immorality  is  no  doubt  a most  prevalent  vice 
in  Japan  — as  it  is  in  all  other  countries.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  the  foulest  stain  on  Japan’s  fair  name  is  the 
historic  habit  of  selling  pure,  innocent  young  girls  into 
a life  of  shame  to  get  their  parents  out  of  debt.  But  it 
is  wrong  to  judge  this  barbarous  custom  entirely  from  a 
Western  point  of  view.  It  is  simply  a corollary  of  the 
Confucian  idea  that  filial  love  and  obedience  are  the 
highest  virtues,  to  which  all  others,  even  chastity,  must 
be  sacrificed.  Thus  it  happens  that  a certain  ethical 
glamour  is  thrown  around  the  sacrifice  of  such  girls, 
who  are  frequently  the  heroines  of  Japanese  novels. 
But  it  is  extremely  absurd  to  infer  from  this  state  of 
affairs  that  chastity  is  not  esteemed  a virtue  at  all.  The 
fate  of  such  girls  is  deplored,  the  joro  is  abhorred,  and 
the  average  of  chastity  is ' as  high  as  in  Europe  or 
America ; Professor  Ono’s  comparative  statistics  show 
that  crimes  of  personal  violence  and  sexual  crimes  are 
far  fewer  than  in  the  West.  By  the  old  laws  of  Japan, 
adultery  was  punished  by  crucifixion ; later  by  decapi- 
tation and  exposure  of  the  head.  Concubinage,  though 
allowed  by  law,  is  considered  a degradation. 

There  is  nothing  in  Japan  to  compare  with  the  hor- 
rible prevalence  of  incest  in  the  London  slums  ; nothing 
to  compare  with  the  rate  of  illegitimacy  in  Vienna,  and 
the  Japan  Mail  of  May  21,  1892,  says : “ The  unfortu- 


THE  MOTE  AND  THE  BEAM 


285 


nate  truth  is  that  the  most  flagrantly  immoral  parts  of 
Japan  at  present  are  the  slums  and  neighborhood  of 
the  open  ports.”  “ Before  they  opened  any  port  to 
foreign  trade,”  says  the  Rev.  Mr.  Griffis,  “the  Japanese 
built  two  places  for  the  foreigner  — a custom-house  and 
a brothel.  . . . They  believed  the  foreigners  to  be  far 
worse  than  themselves.  How  far  were  they  wrong?  ” 

How  far,  indeed ! The  New  York  Medical  Journal 
of  June  9,  1894,  contains  an  article  showing  on  the  con- 
current testimony  of  the  Hon.  Elbridge  T.  Gerry  and 
Superintendent  Byrnes,  of  the  police  department,  that 
the  number  of  prostitutes  in  New  York  is  “at  least 
40,000,”  and  that  “ the  yearly  expenditure  of  dissolute 
men  in  New  York  upon  prostitutes  would  aggregate 
over  $40,000,000.” 

Is  it  not  about  time  to  protest  against  the  constant 
references  to  Japanese  immorality  in  missionary  reports? 
“ Why  beh oldest  thou  the  mote  that  is  in  thy  brother’s 
eye,  but  not  the  beam  in  thy  own  ? ” 


NUDITY  AND  BATHING 


PUBLIC  BATHS MODEST  EXPOSURE A FOOLISH  LAW  — 

NUDITY,  CLIMATE,  AND  CONVENTION CUSTOMS  OF  VARI- 
OUS COUNTRIES SHOCKED  BY  OUR  HABITS NO  “ GREAT 

UNWASHED” A SENSUOUS  LUXURY BATHING  TO  GET 

WARM SCENES  IN  BATH  HOUSES AN  ESTHETIC  QUES- 
TION   NEGLECT  OF  THE  NUDE  IN  ART 

We  are  so  accustomed  to  regarding  Oriental  races 
as  barbarous  or  half-civilized,  that  it  is  a wholesome 
check  to  our  vanity  to  dwell  occasionally  on  those 
things  in  which  we  are  barbarians  and  the  Asiatics 
civilized.  In  their  attitude  toward  nudity,  and  in 
their  bathing  habits,  the  Japanese  are  far  superior  to 
ourselves  as  a nation  ; yet  their  indifference  to  nudity 
and  some  of  their  bathing  customs  were  largely  re- 
sponsible for  the  moral  misrepresentations  to  which 
foreign  visitors  have  given  vogue.  Explorers  and 
students  of  anthropology  have  pointed  out  that  tribes 
which  go  naked  are  not  a bit  less  moral  than  those 
which  wear  clothing.  Yet  these  visitors  fancied  that 
because  Japanese  men  and  women  were  seen  together 
naked  in  the  public  baths,  therefore  they  must  be 
as  degraded  as  Americans  or  Europeans  who  would 
do  such  a thing  must  necessarily  be  with  our  ideas 
of  propriety.  Even  so  intelligent  a man  as  Com- 
modore Perry  made  this  mistake.  Writing  of  Simoda, 

286 


NUDITY  AND  BATHING 


287 


he  says,  ‘ ‘ A scene  at  one  of  the  public  baths,  where 
the  sexes  mingled  indiscriminately,  unconscious  of 
their  nudity,  was  not  calculated  to  impress  Ameri- 
cans with  a favorable  opinion  of  the  morals  of  the 
inhabitants.”  Laurence  Oliphant  notes,  without  com- 
ment, that  when  his  party  passed  along  the  streets  of 
Yeddo,  “bathers  of  both  sexes,  regardless  of  the  fact 
that  they  had  nothing  on  but  soap,  or  the  Japanese 
substitute  for  it,  crowded  the  doors  ” to  get  a glimpse 
of  the  foreigners.  Sir  Rutherford  Alcock  refers  to  “ the 
bathing  houses,  which,  strongly  lighted,  show  through 
their  lattice  bars  and  open  doors  a crowd  of  both  sexes 
on  opposite  sides,  with  a mathematical  line  of  separa- 
tion ” ; but  he  is  broad-minded  enough  to  explain  that 
“where  there  is  no  sense  of  immodesty,  no  conscious- 
ness of  wrong-doing,  there  is,  or  may  be,  a like  absence 
of  depraved  feeling.” 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  Japanese  that  when  Com- 
modore Perry  expressed  his  surprise  at  the  promiscuous 
bathing  at  Simoda,  they  told  him  that  it  was  not  a 
universal  practice  throughout  Japan  ! They  would 
rather  tell  a lie  than  have  a visitor  think  ill  of  them, 
though  they  doubtless  wondered  why  he  should  be  so 
absurdly  fussy.  It  was  this  sensitiveness  to  foreign 
opinion  that  led  the  Governor  of  Kanagawa  in  1867  to 
post  this  notice  : — 

“ Those  who  come  from  diverse  places  to  Yokohama,  and  make 
their  living  as  porters,  carters,  laborers,  coolies,  and  boatmen,  are 
in  the  habit,  especially  in  the  summer,  of  plying  their  calling  in  a 
state  bordering  on  nudity.  This  is  very  reprehensible;  and  in 
future  no  one  who  does  not  wear  a shirt  or  tunic,  properly  closed 
by  a girdle,  will  be  allowed  to  remain  in  Yokohama.  The  coolie 
masters  are  to  give  liberal  assistance  for  the  suppression  of  such 
people,” 


288 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


The  historian  Black,  from  whose  work  the  above 
edict  is  quoted,  thus  comments  on  the  then  prevalent 
habit  of  going  about  with  only  a loin  cloth:  “No 
Japanese  ever  saw  any  impropriety  in  it  until  we 
pointed  it  out  to  them.  And  they  altered  it  to  please 
us.”  I am  sure  it  was  a foolish  Thing  on  the  part  of 
the  amiable  Japanese  to  make  this  concession  to  the 
false  modesty  of  foreigners.  Instead  of  passing  the 
general  law  of  1872  against  nudity,  they  should  have 
replied  to  their  censors  somewhat  in  this  fashion  : “ In 
a climate  where  even  those  who  remain  idle  in  the 
shade  are  covered  with  a profuse  perspiration  which, 
on  account  of  the  damp  air,  evaporates  very  slowly,  or 
not  at  all,  clothing  of  any  sort  is  a torture  to  those  who 
have  to  toil  in  the  sun  ten  or  more  hours  a day.  The 
well-to-do  are  more  or  less  dressed  anyway,  but  the 
coolies  must  be  allowed  to  go  naked,  for  the  sake  of 
their  health  as  well  as  their  comfort ; and  if  any  for- 
eigners see  harm  in  this,  they  are  at  liberty  to  leave  by 
the  next  steamer.  Nudity  is  essential  to  the  health  of 
the  coolies,  on  account  of  their  profuse  perspiration. 
Your  physiological  science  tells  us  that  we  breathe 
through  the  pores  of  the  skin  quite  as  much  as  through 
the  lungs ; but  if  the  skin  is  swathed  in  wet  clothing, 
how  can  its  pores  breathe  ? A coolie  cannot  be  clean 
unless  he  is  naked  ; and  do  you  not  say  that  cleanliness 
is  next  to  godliness  ? It  is  from  this  point  of  view  that 
we  can  understand  why  in  some  parts  of  India  there  is, 
according  to  an  English  writer,  i a profound  suspicion 
of  the  irreligiousness  of  clothing.’  Anthropology  proves 
that  it  was  not  modesty,  but  the  necessity  of  protection 
against  cold,  that  led  to  the  adoption  of  clothing.  It 
has  been  found  in  Java  that  the  children  of  foreigners 


NUDITY  AND  BATHING 


289 


do  not  live  unless  they  are  allowed  to  go  naked.  If 
the  English  in  India  would  allow  their  children  to  go 
naked,  they  would  not  have  to  send  them  to  the  moun- 
tains or  to  Europe  to  save  their  lives.  Only  those  who 
submit  to  the  laws  of  nature  are  found  fit  to  survive. 

“ Furthermore,  the  attitude  of  various  nations  toward 
nudity  is  purely  a matter  of  convention.  Mohammedan 
women  think  it  sinful  to  show  their  faces,  but  uncover 
their  legs  without  hesitation.  Chinese  women  consider 
it  shockingly  immodest  to  let  any  one  see  their  crippled 
feet.  Hindoo  women  hide  their  faces,  while  their 
figures  are  clearly  revealed  through  their  transparent 
gauze  dress.  Plato,  whom  Christians  honor  as  one  of 
the  greatest  of  philosophers,  said  that  young  men  and 
women  should  see  each  other  naked  in  order  to  be  able 
to  see  what  sort  of  a person  they  are  to  marry.  The 
Greeks  in  general,  whom  you  honor  as  the  most  civil- 
ized nation  of  all  times,  would  have  been  as  much  sur- 
prised as  we  are  at  your  prudish  horror  of  nudity. 

“Remember  the  mote  and  the  beam.  One  of  your 
own  writers  says  that  ‘to  a Japanese  the  sight  of 
our  dazzling  ballrooms,  with  girls  in  decollete  dresses, 
clasped  in  the  arms  of  their  partners,  and  whirling  to  the 
sound  of  excited  music,  must  seem  the  wildest  debauch 
imaginable  ; for  in  Japan  the  sexes,  except  among  the 
lower  classes,  never  intermingle.’  Another  of  your 
writers,  a woman,  has  summed  up  the  matter  admi- 
rably in  these  words  : ‘According  to  the  Japanese 
standard,  any  exposure  of  the  person  that  is  merely 
incidental  to  health,  cleanliness,  or  convenience  in 
doing  necessary  work,  is  perfectly  modest  and  allow- 
able ; but  an  exposure,  no  matter  how  slight,  that  is 
simply  for  show,  is  in  the  highest  degree  indelicate. 


290 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


...  To  the  Japanese  mind  it  is  immodest  to  want  to 
show  off  a pretty  figure.’  Your  4 living  pictures  ’ would 
be  strongly  condemned  by  us.  You  will  be  able  to 
appreciate  all  these  points  more  easily  when  you  bear 
in  mind  your  own  variable  standards.  If  your  women 
should  reveal  their  bosoms  on  the  beach  as  they  do  in 
a ballroom,  they  would  be  denounced  as  immodest ; if 
they  should  expose  their  legs  in  a ballroom  as  they  do 
on  the  beach,  they  would  be  handed  over  to  the  police.” 

As  a matter  of  fact,  neither  the  American  ball  dress 
nor  the  bathing  costume  is  immodest,  whatever  Japan- 
ese may  think  of  it ; and,  conversely,  Japanese  expos- 
ure is  perfectly  proper,  whatever  we  may  think  of  it. 
To  a pure  mind  there  is  much  more  n odesty  in  the 
unconscious  nudity  of  rural  women  than  in  the  con- 
scious gesture  with  which  a Tokyo  girl  covers  her 
bosom  whenever  she  sees  a foreigner.  It  is  surprising 
how  quickly  foreigners  usually  adopt  the  naive  Japan- 
ese point  of  view  : in  a few  weeks  one  looks  on  naked- 
ness with  the  same  indifference  as  the  Japanese,  except 
when  a beautiful  figure  arrests  the  esthetic  attention. 
Our  artists  go  into  raptures  over  the  fine  opportunities 
for  the  study  of  muscles  in  action  afforded  in  Japan. 
The  reader  will  find  in  Miss  Bird’s  Unbeaten  Tracks 
(I.  305)  an  amusing  illustration  of  how  even  such  a 
model  of  propriety  as  that  distinguished  tourist  found 
herself  taking  the  part  of  her  runners  against  the 
police  trying  to  enforce  the  cruel  law  against  nudity. 

Not  only  are  the  Japanese  in  their  indifference  to 
nudity  more  sensible  and  pure-minded  than  their  cen- 
sors, but  in  the  matter  of  bathing  and  cleanliness  they 
are  as  a nation  infinitely  more  civilized  than  Europeans 
and  Americans.  That  Japan  has  no  “ Great  Unwashed 


NUDITY  AND  BATHING 


291 


is  a statement  of  such  wide  bearing  that  the  Occidental 
mind  can  scarce  grasp  its  significance  at  first  hearing. 
You  may  be  hemmed  in  by  the  densest  crowd  in  Tokyo 
on  a sultry  summer  day,  or  stand  among  busy  work- 
men whose  scant  clothing  is  wet,  and  never  will  your 
nostrils  be  offended  by  that  disagreeable  summer  odor 
of  humanity,  which  would  be  noticeable  in  other  coun- 
tries under  similar  circumstances. 

Being  a nation  of  agnostics,  the  Japanese  could 
hardly  be  expected  to  sympathize  with  the  old  Hebrew 
doctrine  which  places  cleanliness  next  to  godliness. 
They  make  cleanliness  the  first  of  all  virtues,  and  the 
daily  bath  the  first  of  all  duties.  While  New  York 
had  to  wait  until  the  year  1891,  before  a project  was 
started  for  supplying  the  Great  Unwashed  with  baths 
at  a reasonable  rate,  the  metropolis  of  Japan  has  offered 
such  opportunities  as  far  back  as  the  records  go.  Tokyo 
has  to-day  about  800  public  baths,  in  which  300,000 
persons,  or  almost  a fourth  of  the  population,  bathe  every 
day,  at  a cost  of  one  cent  for  each  hot  bath  ; and  besides 
this  every  family,  except  some  of  the  very  poorest,  has 
its  own  private  bath  room  in  the  house,  or  at  least  a tub 
and  plenty  of  hot  water.  If  you  stop  at  the  humblest 
village  inn  for  lunch,  a basin  of  water  is  brought,  in 
which  to  wash  the  feet ; and  if  you  stay  for  the  night, 
hardly  has  a room  been  assigned  to  you,  when  a girl 
appears  to  conduct  you  to  the  bath,  for  the  use  of  which 
no  charge  is  made.  Nothing  surprises  them  more  than 
a foreigner  who  refuses  to  take  at  least  one  hot  bath  a 
day.  They  themselves  are  more  likely  to  take  two  or 
three ; and  the  consequence  is  that  they  are  the  clean- 
est people  in  the  world. 

It  has  been  said  that  they  value  the  bath  not  so  much 


292 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


for  its  cleansing  effect  as  for  the  enjoyment  of  a sensu- 
ous luxury.  Suppose  we  were  to  grant  this,  what  dif- 
ference does  it  make,  so  long  as  it  leaves  them  the  clean- 
est people  in  the  world?  But  it  is  not  true.  The 
aspect  of  their  streets  and  houses  shows  that  they  value 
cleanliness  for  its  own  sake.  They  have,  besides,  a use 
for  the  hot  bath  which  may  be  considered  unique. 
Their  houses  affording  but  poor  protection  against 
chilling  winds,  and  having  no  fireplaces,  the  hot 
bath  is  frequently  used  as  a last  resort  for  getting 
warm.  Professor  Chamberlain  relates  that  one  day 
some  of  the  inhabitants  of  a certain  village,  famed  for 
its  hot  springs,  excused  themselves  to  him  for  their 
dirtiness  during  the  busy  summer  months.  uFor,” 
said  they,  “we  have  only  time  to  bathe  twice  a day.” 
“H  ow  often,  then,  do  you  bathe  in  winter?”  “Oh! 
about  four  or  five  times  daily.  The  children  get  into 
the  bath  whenever  they  feel  cold.” 

Farsari’s  guide  book  attributes  the  premature  aging 
of  Japanese  women  in  part  to  their  too  frequent  indul- 
gence in  the  hot  bath,  but  Dr.  Baelz,  the  best  authority 
on  Japanese  physique,  declares  that  these  baths  have 
many  advantages,  but  not  a single  disadvantage,  so  far 
as  he  could  ascertain.  It  is  commonly  supposed  that 
hot  baths  unbrace  the  nerves  and  invite  colds,  but  this 
is  true  only  of  warm , and  not  of  hot  baths,  such  as  the 
Japanese  indulge  in,  at  a temperature  of  110°  to  115°, 
which,  in  some  cases,  is  increased  to  120°,  and  occasion- 
ally even  to  130°  Fahrenheit.  Foreigners  cannot  endure 
such  temperatures,  but  the  natives  revel  in  them,  and 
the  effect  on  them  is  so  bracing  and  strengthening  that 
they  can,  and  often  do,  emerge  from  the  tub  and  walk 
some  distance  in  the  coldest  winter  weather  without 


NUDITY  AND  BATHING 


293 


a stitch  of  clothing  on,  and  without  catching  a cold. 
When  foreign  physicians  were  first  imported  and  looked 
up  to  in  Japan,  about  twenty  years  ago,  they  actually 
succeeded,  in  their  ignorance,  in  making  the  Govern- 
ment pass  a law  forbidding  a higher  temperature  than 
blood  heat;  but  the  mistake  was  soon  discovered,  and 
the  law  repealed.  To-day  those  of  the  foreign  resi- 
dents who  are  wisest,  have  given  up  their  cold  baths, 
and  try  to  approximate  the  Japanese  temperature  as 
closely  as  possible. 

The  Japanese  bath  tub  is  usually  a square  wooden 
tank,  sometimes  large  enough  to  admit  several  persons 
at  a time.  The  water  can  be  heated  in  a short  time  by 
means  of  a copper  tube  standing  in  one  corner  of  the 
tub,  and  having  a grating  for  charcoal  at  the  bottom. 
For  economical  reasons  the  Japanese  never  have  bath 
tubs  to  lie  in,  but  usually  make  them  only  wide  enough 
so  that  one  can  sit  or  kneel,  which  requires  less  water, 
and  therefore  less  coal. 

So  far  all  seems  well ; but  there  is  (apart  from  the 
indifference  to  nudity)  one  thing  about  Japanese  baths 
which  is  apt  to  stagger  foreign  visitors  — the  use  of  the 
same  water  by  a number  of  persons.  When  the  family 
bath  is  ready,  the  father,  mother,  children,  and  servants 
all  enter  it  in  the  order  here  given.  In  crowded  inns, 
a score  or  two  of  guests,  entire  strangers  to  each  other, 
are  expected  to  use  the  same  water  (to  economize  fuel). 
This  may  seem  better  than  no  bath  at  all,  and  as  the 
natives  wash  themselves  all  over  before  entering  the 
tub,  the  objection  may  be  largely  imaginary ; but  we 
cannot  overcome  our  predilection  for  a fresh  tub  for 
each  individual,  and  communism  in  bathing  does  not 
seem  an  inviting  form  of  hygienic  diversion.  We  have 


294 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  .JAPAN 


similar  forms  of  aqueotis  communism  at  Baden-Baden, 
the  hot  baths  in  Switzerland,  and  the  large  tanks  in  our 
Turkish  baths  ; but  there,  at  least,  the  water  flows  inces- 
santly. Many  of  the  J apanese  are  fastidious  enough  to 
have  a bucket  of  fresh  water  poured  over  themselves 
after  the  communal  tubbing. 

It  is  not  only  the  poorest  families  — those  who  cannot 
afford  a tub  at  home  — that  frequent  the  public  baths ; 
many  go  there  to  gossip  with  friends ; wherefore,  as 
previously  intimated,  more  than  a quarter  of  a million 
of  the  natives  of  Tokyo  scrub  and  boil  themselves  to- 
gether every  afternoon.  In  obedience  to  law,  the  bath 
rooms  are  no  longer  fully  exposed  to  the  street,  but  they 
are  only  closed  below,  and  any  one  who  chooses  can  look 
in  through  the  latticed  bars  above  ; nor  do  the  bathers 
object  to  such  a proceeding.  There  is  always  a separate 
tank  for  women  and  one  for  men,  but  the  partition 
between  them  is  only  a few  feet  in  height,  and  what  is 
stranger  still,  a man  may  be  seen  waiting  on  a score  or 
more  of  women  on  their  side,  while  on  the  men’s  side 
a girl  stands  to  receive  the  admission  fee.  There  may 
be  twenty  or  thirty  men  or  boys  on  one  side,  and  as 
many  women  and  girls  on  the  other,  chatting,  scr  ubbing, 
tubbing,  some  standing,  others  kneeling  before  a small 
tub  or  bucket,  using  their  bran  bags,  which  make  the 
skin  soft  and  smooth.  Soap  is  not  favored,  for  there 
is  a superstition  that  it  makes  the  hair  turn  red,  and 
red  is  the  color  of  the  Japanese  devil.  Every  minute 
one  or  two  leave  the  room,  their  skins  glowing  with 
health,  while  the  newcomers  disappear  behind  a screen 
and  in  a moment  emerge  stark  naked  and  join  the 
chatting  crowd. 

When  Taro  took  us  for  the  first  time  on  a tour  of 


NUDITY  AND  BATHING 


295 


inspection  of  the  public  baths,  he  opened  the  door  on 
the  women’s  side  and  seemed  surprised  at  the  Occidental 
diffidence  which  prevented  us  from  accepting  his  invita- 
tion to  walk  right  in.  It  would  have  been,  not  improper, 
but  impolite  to  do  so.  For  purposes  of  esthetic  study 
and  comparison  it  was  sufficient  to  take  a peep  through 
the  grating.  Thus  we  saw  in  Tokyo,  and  especially 
in  Kyoto,  many  “living  pictures”  that  would  have 
delighted  the  most  fastidious  Occidental  sculptor  of 
Psyches.  It  is  true  that  the  majority  of  the  women, 
in  Japan  as  elsewhere,  have  ugly  or  imperfect  figures ; 
but  the  proportion  of  well-rounded,  symmetrical  shapes 
to  be  seen  at  these  baths  is  larger  than  one  might 
expect.  While  the  faces  of  the  aristocratic  women 
(who  bathe  at  home)  are  as  a rule  more  refined  and 
beautiful,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  sculptors  would 
find  more  available  models  in  the  communistic  bath 
tubs  than  in  the  private  ones,  because  in  all  countries 
the  most  shapely  figures  are  habitually  found  among 
the  classes  who  are  obliged  by  poverty  to  exercise  their 
limbs  into  muscular  rotundity. 

A very  interesting  but  perplexing  question  occurred 
to  me  in  gazing  at  these  Oriental  beauties.  It  is  one 
of  the  commonplaces  of  art  historians  that  the  main 
reason  why  the  Greeks  were  such  great  sculptors  and 
lovers  of  human  beauty  was,  that  they  could  feast  their 
eyes  daily  on  beautiful  nude  models  at  their  games  and 
elsewhere.  If  this  view  be  accepted,  why  is  it  that  the 
Japanese  artists,  who  have  had  even  more  abundant 
opportunity  to  study  the  nude,  have  sculptured  and 
painted  no  Oriental  Venus,  Psyche,  and  Apollo? 

It  cannot  be  that  the  neglect  of  the  nude  is  due  to 
the  want  of  good  models,  for  such  models  are  as  abun- 


296 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


dant  here  as  anywhere  else  except  perhaps  in  Spanish 
countries  ; and  it  is,  moreover,  a function  of  artists  to 
assist  nature  by  judicious  selection  and  imaginative 
combination  of  perfect  parts  occurring  in  different  indi- 
viduals. Some  writers  have  attributed  the  neglect  of 
the  human  figure  by  Japanese  artists  to  a religious 
prejudice  — that  is,  to  the  Buddhist  tradition  which, 
like  the  asceticism  of  mediaeval  European  churchmen, 
inculcated  contempt  of  the  human  body  as  being  a 
mere  prison  for  the  immortal  soul,  whose  chief  desire 
is  to  get  away  from  this  living  carcass.  If  this  be 
true,  — and  there  is  doubtless  some  truth  in  it,  — we 
owe  to  Buddhism  a tremendous  grudge ; for  these 
Japanese  painters  who  have  drawn  flowers,  fishes, 
birds,  and  other  living  things,  with  an  art  nowhere 
equalled  — think  what  visions  of  loveliness  and  grace 
they  might  have  copied  and  perpetuated  during  the 
centuries  when  they  had  so  many  thousand  of  living 
human  models  before  their  eyes  daily ! 

I believe,  however,  that  the  deeper  explanation  lies 
in  the  traditional  eagerness  of  these  artists  to  paint  the 
kaleidoscopic  patterns  and  colors  of  the  kimonos,  — 
the  gorgeous  dresses  of  their  women,  — which  afforded 
them  an  endless  variety  of  patterns  and  tints.  In  look- 
ing at  the  conventional  classical  pictures  of  women  it  is 
easy  to  see  that  in  most  cases  “the  kimono’s  the  thing.” 
Some  of  these  garments  are  dreams  of  beauty,  and  they 
lend  themselves  to  many  graceful  folds,  curves,  and  atti- 
tudes. Not  only  the  nude  figure,  but  even  the  face,  is 
sacrificed  to  this  love  of  bright  kimonos.  Of  the  whole 
body  nothing  is  usually  visible  in  these  pictures,  except 
the  hands  and  face,  with  perhaps  a glimpse  of  the 
neck ; the  face  being  a stereotyped  doll  physiognomy  — 


NUDITY  AND  BATHING 


297 


always  the  same  straight  nose,  the  same  exaggeratedly 
oblique  eyes,  barely  open  enough  to  admit  a ray  of  light, 
the  same  impossible  distance  between  eyes  and  eye- 
brows, and  the  same  tiny  and  absolutely  characterless 
mouth,  painted  apparently  with  a single  stroke  of  the 
brush.  These  pictures  no  more  resemble  the  faces  of 
actual  Japanese  maidens  than  an  Italian  soprano’s  florid 
aria  resembles  her  every-day  speech. 


THE  ESTHETIC  NATION 

MUSIC  AND  NATIONALITY LAUGHING  AT  OUR  MUSIC A 

SUGGESTIVE  EXCEPTION SCULPTURE  AND  ARCHITECT- 
URE   GREAT  IN  SMALL  THINGS DECORATIVE  ART 

IMPRESSIONISM IRREGULARITY LOVE  OF  NATURE 

FLOWERS  VERSUS  BOUQUETS FLOWER  SEASONS POETIC 

FLOWER  NAMES  MOTTOES  ON  SCREENS  JAPANESE 

POETRY LOVE  LETTERS  ON  TREES 

One  of  the  strangest  of  Japanese  paradoxes  is  this  : 
that,  although  in  the  principal  arts  — music,  sculpture, 
architecture,  painting,  and  poetry  — the  nations  of  Eu- 
rope have  surpassed  all  the  Orientals,  nevertheless,  the 
Japanese  are  the  only  truly  artistic  nation  in  the  world 
— the  Esthetic  Nation  par  excellence. 

Music.  — It  is  in  the  “ divine  art  ” that  the  Orientals 
are  motet  distinctly  our  inferiors.  That  Japanese  music 
does  not,  as  a rule,  please  resident  foreigners  and  tour- 
ists, is  amusingly  obvious  from  the  words  in  which  they 
usually  allude  to  it:  “horrible  beyond  description,” 
“an  agonizing  mystery,”  and  so  on.  This,  however, 
would  not  prove  much  in  itself,  since  musical  history 
shows  that  from  the  time  of  Monte verde  to  Wagner, 
Europeans  have  quite  as  fiercely  and  savagely  abused 
the  music  of  the  men  of  genius  who  dared  to  make  in- 
novations within  the  sphere  of  their  own  music ; where- 
fore one  could  hardly  expect  them  to  take  kindly  to 

298 


THE  ESTHETIC  NATION 


299 


sucli  an  utterly  novel  tone-art  as  the  Japanese.  It  must 
be  borne  in  mind,  also,  that  there  are  two  sides  to  the 
shield:  to  the  Japanese  our  music  seems  quite  as  funny 
and  excruciating  as  theirs  does  to  us.  Netto  has  an 
amusing  page  on  his  experiences  in  this  line,  and  Cham- 
berlain tells  of  a memorable  performance  in  Tokyo,  by 
Italian  opera  singers.  The  native  hearers  “ were  seized 
with  a wild  fit  of  hilarity  at  the  high  notes  of  the  prima 
donna , who  really  was  not  at  all  bad.  The  people 
laughed  at  the  absurdities  of  European  singing  till  their 
sides  shook  and  the  tears  rolled  down  their  cheeks;  and 
they  stuffed  their  sleeves  into  their  mouths,  as  we  might 
our  pocket  handkerchiefs,  in  the  vain  endeavor  to  con- 
tain themselves.” 

Some  foreign  residents  have  found  Japanese  music 
an  acquired  taste  which  gradually  became  a fascination. 
Thus  Mr.  Lafcadio  Hearn  speaks  of  “ the  strange  music 
called  Ojo  and  Batto,  — music  which  at  first  no  West- 
ern ear  can  feel  pleasure  in,  but  which,  when  often 
heard,  becomes  comprehensible,  and  is  found  to  possess 
a weird  charm  of  its  own.”  As  for  my  own  experiences, 
they  are  related  in  the  preceding  pages  of  this  volume. 
I frankly  confess  that  I found  the  koto  musical,  and 
even  enjoyed  an  occasional  tune  on  the  samisen. 

The  Japanese  have  shown  a gift  for  assimilating  our 
music,  and  I believe  they  will  ere  long  learn  that  the 
martial  drum  is  more  appropriate  in  a military  band 
than  in  a tea  house  or  temple ; that  the  flute  is  decid- 
edly not  a sacred  instrument,  especially  when  it  deliber- 
ately indulges  in  quarter-tones;  and  that  there  are 
physiological  and  esthetic  objections  to  their  way  of 
making  young  girls  “cultivate”  their  voices  by  sitting 
on  a roof  on  cold  nights,  singing  until  hoarseness  passes 


800 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


into  dumbness.  I believe  that  Japanese  music  has  no 
future  except  such  as  will  approximate  it  to  European 
music.  It  appears  to  be  just  learning  the  first  harmonic 
steps,  which  our  music  took  several  centuries  ago; 
but  it  is  likely  that  herein,  as  in  so  many  things,  Japan 
will  jump  from  the  sixteenth  century  to  the  nineteenth, 
disdaining  to  pass  through  the  stages  of  the  parallel 
fifths  and  fourths  of  the  organum,  the  parallel  thirds 
and  sixths  of  the  faux  bourdon,  and  the  counterpoint  of 
the  Netherlanders,  but  plunging  at  once  into  Wagnerian 
harmonies. 

In  looking  over  the  bound  volumes  of  the  Japan 
Weekly  Mail , that  wonderful  storehouse  of  valuable 
information,  I came  across  a description  (printed  June 
18,  1891)  of  a musical  performance  heard  by  a corre- 
spondent at  Matsue.  It  lasted  an  hour,  and  consisted 
of  ballads  sung  by  girls  and  women  of  the  outcast  class 
known  as  the  Yama-no-Mono.  Three  of  them  began 
with  a “ clear  sweet  burst  of  soprano  song  totally 
differing  from  anything  I had  ever  heard  in  Japan 
before.”  Presently,  the  voices  of  three  more  women, 
“ deeper  but  equally  sweet,  joined  in  producing  a deli- 
cious harmony ; and  a kind  of  burthen  was  chanted  by 
all  in  unison.  . . . Certainly  no  singing  I have  heard 
from  the  geishas  could  compare  in  charm  with  this 
simple  ballad  singing  of  a despised  outcast  class.” 
This  interesting  letter  suggested  to  me  the  thought : 
Is  not  perhaps  the  nasal,  shrill  voice,  and  artificial  song 
of  the  geishas  a phenomenon  similar  to  the  absurd  pict- 
ures spoken  of  in  the  last  chapter  — a result  of  conven- 
tionalism and  the  following  of  traditional  unnatural 
models  ; and  is  it  not  likely  that  a lively  war  on  this 
conventionalism  would  give  Japanese  music  a tremen- 


THE  ESTHETIC  NATION 


301 


clous  impulse  in  the  light  direction  ; Tubbing  off  the 
paint  and  powder,  and  restoring  the  clear  beauty  of  the 
natural  complexion  ? 

Sculpture  and  Architecture . — A few  summers  ago  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  spending  a few  days  in  the  moun- 
tains of  British  Columbia  with  Mr.  Alfred  East,  who 
was  on  his  way  back  to  London,  where  he  soon  there- 
after had  a special  exhibition  of  his  106  oil  and  water- 
color  sketches  on  Japanese  subjects.  Before  leaving 
Japan  he  delivered  a lecture  on  its  art,  one  sentence  in 
which  has  been  often  quoted  since  as  a compact  expres- 
sion of  its  essence.  Japanese  art,  he  said,  “is  great  in 
small  things,  but  small  in  great  things.”  Of  course, 
this  generalization  is  too  sweeping;  for  while  the  neg- 
lect of  the  nude  has,  as  we  saw  in  the  last  chapter,  pre- 
vented the  Japanese  from  giving  us  Aphrodites  and 
Apollos,  they  have,  nevertheless,  created  many  beauti- 
ful figures,  some  of  them  not  only  large,  but  gigantic, 
notably  the  famous  Daibutsu  of  Kamakura.  Mr.  Wores 
describes  some  figures  he  saw  which  for  their  action 
and  anatomically  correct  modelling  rank,  in  his  estima- 
tion, “as  high  as  anything  in  the  sculptor’s  art  of 
modern  times.”  In  the  “ small  things  ” of  wood  and 
ivory  carving  and  metal  work,  the  Japanese  are  un- 
rivalled. Their  netsuk^s  have  been  compared  to  “ the 
Tanagra  figures  of  Greek  origin,  and  to  the  finest 
sculptures  of  the  Gothic  age.” 

As  regards  architecture,  it  is  obvious  that  monu- 
mental structures  are  impossible  in  a land  where  three 
earthquakes  occur  every  two  days.  The  high  pagodas 
are  kept  from  tumbling  by  means  of  an  ingenious  pen- 
dulum arrangement  which  would  be  impracticable  in 
other  buildings.  To  the  remarkable  variety  and  indi- 


302 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


viduality  of  Japanese  roofs,  reference  was  made  in  an 
earlier  chapter.  This  subject  is  elaborately  treated  by 
Mr.  Morse  in  his  Japanese  Homes , wherein  it  may  be 
seen  that  in  many  details  of  house-building  and  furnish- 
ing the  Japanese  show  a taste  far  superior  to  ours.  To 
note  a sample  or  two,  a Japanese  would  never  be  guilty 
of  “ the  absurdity  of  covering  a good  grained  wood- 
surface  with  paint,  and  then  with  brush  and  comb  try- 
ing to  imitate  nature  by  scratching  in  a series  of  lines.” 
In  building  a house,  great  care  is  taken  to  secure  wood 
that  matches  in  grain  and  color ; and  in  order  to  avoid 
mixing  up  of  woods,  the  boards  into  which  a log  has 
been  sawed  are  replaced  and  tied  together.  For  pillars, 
twisted  trunks  are  often  preferred  to  straight  ones. 
Not  infrequently  the  bark  is  left  on  tree  trunks  which 
are  used  as  pillars,  and  even  when  it  is  removed,  the 
holes  bored  by  insects  remain,  so  fond  are  these  people 
of  naturalness. 

Painting.  — In  Japan,  painting  is  not  a separate  art, 
but  simply  the  highest  form  of  the  decorative  art.  The 
painter  works,  not  for  galleries,  public  or  private,  but 
for  the  adornment  of  temples  and  homes.  As  Schubert 
could  not  see  a sheet  of  paper  without  scribbling  a 
song  on  it,  so  a Japanese  artist  cannot  see  a surface 
without  feeling  tempted  to  adorn  it  with  flowers,  birds, 
maidens,  and  mountains.  Screens,  sliding  or  folding, 
fans,  vases,  trays,  tea  and  flower  pots  — nothing  escapes 
his  pencil,  and  Nihil  tetigit  quod  non  ornavit  acquires  a 
double  meaning  when  applied  to  him.  To  the  average 
Japanese,  art  is  not  a recreation,  to  be  indulged  in  semi- 
occasionally,  but  it  is,  like  oxygen,  a constituent  of  the 
atmosphere  he  breathes  every  moment;  and  the  hum- 
blest coolie  wants  his  share  of  art  as  much  as  his  oxy- 


THE  ESTHETIC  NATION 


303 


gen.  The  shops  contain  thousands  of  objects  for  use 
and  entertainment,  and  each  of  these  objects,  though 
it  cost  but  a tenth  of  a cent,  is  artistically  shaped  or 
decorated. 

44  It  is  the  fault  of  foreign  pictures,”  says  a Japanese 
writer,  44  that  they  dive  too  deeply  into  realities,  and  pre- 
serve many  details  that  were  better  suppressed.  Such 
works  are  but  as  groups  of  words.  The  Japanese 
picture  should  aspire  to  be  a poem  of  form  and  color.” 

The  Japanese  artist  is  usually  an  impressionist ; 
that  is,  he  avoids  superfluous  details,  seizing  only  on 
what  is  essential  to  his  purpose,  but  presenting  that  with 
such  virtuosity  that  the  mood  he  desires  to  suggest  is 
transferred  to  the  spectator  as  instantaneously  as  the 
current  of  our  emotions  is  changed  by  a dramatic  modu- 
lation in  a Wagner  music-drama.  Professor  Fenollosa 
believes,  no  doubt  justly,  that  the  impetus  to  French 
impressionism  was  given  partly  by  a thorough  study  of 
Japanese  art.1 

Nor  is  impressionism  the  only  lesson  taught  Western 
artists  by  their  Japanese  colleagues.  The  principle 
which  underlies  it  — the  suppression  of  redundant  and 
distracting  details  — is  applied  by  them  not  only  to  a 
picture  in  itself,  but  also  to  the  surroundings  of  a pict- 
ure. As  we  crowd  too  much  furniture  into  our  parlors, 
so  we  hang  too  many  pictures  on  our  walls,  and  our 
wall  papers  usually  consist  of  the  same  figure  repeated 
a thousand  times  in  monotonous  geometrical  patterns. 

1 While  thus  indifferent  to  details,  it  is  a striking  fact  that  the 
Japanese  artist  has  a keener  eye  than  his  Western  colleague.  Herr 
Ottomar  Anschutz  of  Lissa,  Prussia,  has  shown  that  certain  Japanese 
pictures  of  birds  and  other  animals  which  seemed  unnatural  were  really 
correct,  as  proved  by  instantaneous  photography. 


304 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Not  so  the  Japanese.  In  painting  a screen  or  kakemono, 
they  leave  most  of  the  space  bare,  being  contented  with 
a simple  spray  of  cherry  blossoms  or  maple  leaves,  or  a 
few  cranes  in  a pond  among  the  lily  leaves,  or  a flight 
of  birds,  or  a tree  on  shore  with  a glimpse  of  the  sea,  or 
a group  of  deer  under  a tree,  or  a miniature  bridge  over 
an  iris  pond  — thus  preventing  the  spectator’s  attention 
from  being  distracted  by  “ a rabble  of  inartistic  patterns 
and  ornaments.” 

An  artistic  innovation  of  still  greater  charm  and 
value  is  the  Japanese  passion  for  irregularity.  Western 
art,  like  Western  thought,  is  utterly  distorted  by  our 
vain  habit  of  making  man  the  centre  of  the  universe. 
Because  we  are  symmetrical,  having  a right  hand  and 
a left,  a right  eye  and  a left,  a right  ear  and  a left,  our 
misguided  painters  have  made  symmetry  a pervading 
principle  of  all  art,  with  the  result  that  if,  for  example, 
“on  the  right  hand  there  was  a Cupid  looking  to  the  left, 
then  on  the  left  hand  there  must  be  a Cupid  of  exactly 
the  same  size  looking  to  the  right.”  “The  Japanese 
artisan-artists,”  says  Chamberlain,  “ have  shown  us  that 
this  mechanical  symmetry  does  not  make  for  beauty. 
They  have  taught  us  the  charm  of  irregularity ; and  if 
the  world  owe  them  but  this  one  lesson,  Japan  may  yet 
be  proud  of  what  she  has  accomplished.” 

Nature  and  Flowers.  — It  is  rather  odd  that  in  this 
passion  for  irregularity  versus  symmetry,  the  Japanese 
should  again  be  on  the  side  of  Nature  versus  Man,  as 
in  their  habit  of  neglecting  the  human  figure  for  birds 
and  flowers.  But  the  comparison  is  suggestive ; it 
emphasizes  the  fact  that  nature  is  a passion,  a cult,  an 
ecstasy,  to  this  Esthetic  Nation.  Wherever  there  is  a 
site  commanding  a fine  view  of  lake  and  mountain,  there 


THE  ESTHETIC  NATION 


305 


will  you  find  a temple  or  a tea  house,  where  poor  and  rich 
alike  can  enjoy  the  prospect.  Millions  of  pilgrims  make 
long  or  short  journeys  every  summer,  ostensibly  to  visit 
some  shrine,  but  really  to  enjoy  the  scenery  and  outing. 
Nor  is  there  a lack  of  enjoyment  for  those  who  stay  at 
home.  “ On  moonlight  nights,  in  mild  weather,”  says 
Mr.  Griffis,  “ thousands  of  people  throng  the  bridges, 
walk  the  streets,  or  lounge  in  boats  on  the  river,  enjoy- 
ing themselves  in  looking  skyward.  The  houses  have 
moon-viewing  chambers.”  “ In  August  and  September 
both  young  folks  and  middle-aged  will  sit  up  all  night 
until  well  into  the  morning  to  see  the  moon  rise  over 
the  sea,  meanwhile  drinking  rice  wine  and  composing 
poetry.” 

There  is  a sermon  in  stones  as  treated  by  this  esthetic 
nation.  You  find  them  everywhere,  in  hills,  in  parks, 
in  cemeteries,  in  gardens,  and  they  are  not  stones 
chiselled  into  artificial  shapes  of  Occidental  symmetry, 
but  worn  into  smooth  irregularity  by  rain  and  frost, 
and  other  forces  of  nature.  Japanese  gardens,  again, 
are  not  aggregations  of  geometrical  flower  beds,  but  min- 
iature landscapes,  imitations  of  famous  bits  of  scenery, 
with  lakes  and  bridges,  trees  and  mountains,  lilies  and 
lotos,  frogs  and  fishes.  Here  you  may  see  pine  trees 
hundreds  of  years  old,  only  a foot  or  two  in  height, 
embedded  in  small  pots,  the  prime  object  of  this  dwarf- 
ing having  been  obviously  a desire  to  give  verisimilitude 
to  the  miniature  garden  landscape.1 

If,  with  their  usual  “ rascally  topsie-turvyness,”  the 

1 The  poetic  charms  of  a Japanese  garden  are  admirably  mirrored 
in  Chap.  XVI.  of  Mr.  Lafcadio  Hearn’s  Glimpses  of  Unfamiliar  Japan , 
and  in  Mr.  J.  Conder’s  two  superb  volumes  on  The  Flowers  of  Japan 
and  Landscape  Gardening  in  Japan. 


306 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Japanese  do  not  make  flowers  the  principal  feature  of 
their  gardens,  and  often,  indeed,  omit  them  entirely, 
their  attitude  toward  flowers  is  nevertheless  what  most 
unmistakably  marks  them  as  the  esthetic  nation.  In 
profusion  and  variety  of  wild  flowers  Japan  is  not 
nearly  so  well  supplied  as  Southern  California,  for  ex- 
ample, but  as  cultivators  and  lovers  of  flowers  the 
Japanese  stand  in  the  very  front  rank.  A Boston 
gardener  once  wrote  to  the  Transcript : — 

“The  Yokohama  Gardeners’  Association  grounds  cover  200 
acres  of  land ; they  include  greenhouses  and  stores  too  numerous 
to  mention,  and  the  floral  and  nursery  business  is  carried  on  in 
the  most  perfect  manner.  Palms,  paeonies,  plums,  cherries,  ever- 
greens, magnolias,  and  all  classes  of  shrubs  are  in  cultivation  ; 
also  600  to  800  varieties  of  chrysanthemums,  including  about  sev- 
enty altogether  new  ones  which  I obtained.  ...  I never  saw  a 
chrysanthemum  flower  until  I went  to  Japan,  where  everybody 
loves  it.  I visited  five  hundred  places  where  it  is  cultivated.  But 
these  were  only,  the  principal  gardens  in  a few  large  cities.  Go  to 
Japan ! ” 

Go  to  Japan,  indeed,  if  you  want  to  see  not  only  800 
varieties  of  chrysanthemum,  but  269  different  shades 
of  color  in  them ! Go  there  if  you  wish  to  see  a num- 
ber of  kinds  on  one  stem  or  the  energies  of  a whole 
plant  concentrated  on  one  giant  flower ; go  there  to  see 
“living  pictures  ” in  flowers  — historic  scenes  and  land- 
scapes made  up  somewhat  like  woven  tapestry  of  potted 
chrysanthemums,  — the  pots  being  of  course  “ behind 
the  scenes.”  Go  there  to  see  other  favorite  flowers 
treated  with  similar  care  and  love  ; to  see  even  forest 
leaves  classed  and  adored  as  flowers  when  they  have 
taken  on  their  autumn  tints,  in  which  Japan  rivals 
America.  No  coolie  is  too  poor  to  have  his  flowers 
daily ; none  too  coarse  to  scorn  them  ; for  a small  frac- 


ARTIFICIAL  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN 


THE  ESTHETIC  NATION 


307 


tion  of  a cent  he  can  select  what  he  wants  from  one 
of  the  “ hanging  baskets  ” which  the  itinerant  flower 
sellers  carry  down  the  street  attached  to  a pole  on  their 
shoulders.  On  your  travels,  if  you  stop  more  than  a 
day  at  an  inn,  the  girls  will  bring  in  every  day  a fresh 
potted  plant  to  spice  your  life  with  variety ; and  the 
same  thing  is  done  in  the  humblest  home.  Indeed,  the 
passion  for  flowers  may  become  as  absorbing  as  the  pas- 
sion of  love.  Look  on  this  charming  genre  picture 
drawn  b}^  a correspondent  of  the  Japan  Mail , after  the 
terrible  earthquake  at  Ogaki  in  October,  1891,  while 
the  shocks  were  still  continuing  every  few  minutes : — 

“ In  wandering  through  the  desolate  waste  I saw  a girl,  not 
even  in  one  of  these  temporary  huts,  but  simply  amongst  the 
heaps  of  broken  tiles  and  the  like,  tending  a few  chrysanthemum 
blossoms  that  she  had  in  a vase  of  water  — from  whence  she  had 
procured  them  heaven  only  knows.” 

We,  too,  are  fond  of  flowers,  and  some  of  us  love 
them  as  tenderly  and  treat  them  as  tastefully  as  the 
Japanese.  But  as  a rule,  in  our  arrangement  of  them, 
we  are  utter  barbarians  compared  with  them.  What 
could  be  more  monstrous  and  misshapen  than  the  masses 
of  inharmonious  buds  and  flowers  crowded  together 
in  a large  bouquet,  tied  with  a string,  all  life  and 
individuality  squeezed  out  of  them,  and  perhaps  even 
— horribile  diciu  — a rim  of  perforated  white  paper 
around  them  ? Small  wonder  that  people  who  are 
willing  to  hold  such  horrors  in  their  hands  should  value 
them  in  proportion  to  their  size  and  expense.  The 
only  redeeming  thing  in  such  a bouquet  is  its  fragrance, 
and  possibly  an  accidental  or  designed  harmony  or  con- 
trast of  colors.  Here  again  the  Japanese  teach  us  the 
charm  of  simplicity,  the  ugliness  of  crowding.  To 


308 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


them  a flower  in  the  house  is  the  same  as  a flower  in 
the  garden  or  forest  — the  efflorescence  of  an  individual 
plant  whose  stem,  branches,  and  leaves,  though  less 
beautiful  than  the  flower,  are  quite  as  important  in 
the  ensemble.  Their  list  of  fine  arts  accordingly  in- 
cludes an  art  of  flower-arrangement  which  teaches  the 
proper  training  of  potted  plants  so  as  to  make  them 
look  true  to  nature.  This  art  is  a regular  feature  in 
the  education  of  girls,  and  it  certainly  seems  a thousand 
times  better  suited  to  bring  out  those  exquisite  fem- 
inine qualities  of  tenderness  and  taste  which  make  men 
fall  in  love  with  women,  than  the  algebra,  anatomy, 
and  political  aspirations  which  are  turning  our  charm- 
ing women  into  “ andromaniacs  ” — neuter  beings  who 
have  ceased  to  be  women  without  having  become  men. 

Flower  festivals  are  a specialty  of  Japan.  Almost 
every  month  has  its  favorite  flowers  which  millions 
turn  out  to  see  and  worship  ; the  schools  have  flower 
holidays,  and  even  prisoners  are  not  so  cruelly  treated 
as  to  be  kept  indoors  when  plums  are  in  blossom.  The 
plum  comes  in  January,  the  cherry  blossoms  in  April, 
May  is  pseony-time,  August  lotos-time ; in  November 
comes  the  chrysanthemum,  with  the  colored  maple 
leaves,  and  so  on,  these  being  only  a few  in  the  long 
list.  The  plum  blossom,  coming  immediately  after 
the  snow  (like  our  crocus),  is  a special  favorite,  but 
it  is  in  beauty  surpassed  by  the  cherry  blossom,  which 
all  who  have  seen  it  acclaim  as  the  loveliest  floral 
sight  in  the  world.  “ When,  in  spring,  the  trees  flower, 
it  is  as  though  fleeciest  masses  of  cloud  faintly  tinged 
by  sunset  had  floated  down  from  the  highest  sky  to 
fold  themselves  about  the  branches.”  Mr.  Lafcadio 
Hearn  gives  this  as  an  ancient  Japanese  description  of 


FLOWER  LESSON 


THE  ESTHETIC  NATION 


309 


the  cherry  trees  in  full  bloom.  T wonder  if  James 
Russell  Lowell  had  ever  read  that  old  simile  when  he 
thus  depicted  a New  England  landscape  : “ The  fresh- 
pond  meadows  made  all  oriels  cheap  with  hues  that 
showed  as  if  a sunset  cloud  had  been  wrecked  among 
their  maples.” 

Poetry. — Sometimes  a mere  statement  of  Japanese 
customs  reads  like  a prose  poem,  as  when  Mr.  Conder 
says  that  “Flower-viewing  excursions,  together  with 
such  pastimes  as  shell-gathering,  mushroom-picking,  and 
moon-viewing,  form  the  favorite  occupation  of  the  holi- 
day seeker  throughout  the  year.  By  a pretty  fancy,  the 
snowclad  landscape  is  regarded  as  Winter’s  floral  dis- 
play, and  snow-viewing  is  included  as  one  of  the  flower 
festivals  of  the  year.”  How  much  more  poetic,  too, 
than  our  “ Mrs.  Tom  Brown  ” and  “ Mrs.  James  Smith,” 
and  the  like,  are  the  Japanese  names  of  chrysanthemums, 
— “silver  world,”  “thin  mist,”  “terrestrial  globe,”  “ com- 
panion of  the  moon,”  “basket  of  flowers,”  “shadows  of 
the  evening' sun,”  “sky  at  dawn,”  “moon’s  halo,” 
“ leaves  in  the  frost,”  “ golden  dew,”  “ moonlit  waves.” 

In  poetry,  as  in  painting,  the  Japanese  are  impres- 
sionists, a few  words  being  considered  sufficient  to  paint 
a picture  in  the  reader’s  mind.  I used  to  ask  Mr.  Yabi 
to  translate  for  me  the  mottoes  on  screens  at  the  inns. 
Here  is  one  that  I remember ; it  was  appropriate  for  a 
summer  resort : “ Green  fields  in  summer,  people  sitting 
under  shade  trees.”  Only  this  and  nothing  more ; the 
rest  was  left  to  the  trained  imagination.  “ How  pleas- 
ant,” exclaims  a poet,  “ is  the  sound  of  the  ship  rising 
on  the  waves,  when  it  wakes  us  from  deep  slumber 
during  a long  night ! ” A very  different  mood  gave 
rise  to  this  sentiment:  “ It  is  only  with  the  aid  of  wine 


310 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


that  one  can  tolerate  this  melancholy  existence.”  The 
pun  will  intrude  itself  even  in  a lover’s  lament,  as  in 
this  : “ Like  to  the  pine  trees  I must  stand  and  pine.  . . . 
Till  my  long  sleeve  of  purest  snowy  white,  with  showers 
of  tears  is  steeped  in  bitter  brine.”  Says  an  old  Japa- 
nese song  : “ When  the  roaring  waterfall  is  shivered  by 
the  night  storm,  the  moonlight  is  reflected  in  each  scat- 
tered drop.” 

The  love  of  poetry  seems  to  be  almost  as  universal  as 
the  passion  for  flowers.  This  is  quaintly  illustrated 
in  the  Log  of  a Japanese  Journey  by  Tsurayuka  (tenth 
century),  a little  book  describing  a journey  of  nearly 
two  months’  duration,  from  Tosa  to  Kyoto,  a trip  which 
a steamer  might  make  in  a day  or  two.  There  was 
plenty  of  time  to  while  away  during  the  numerous 
stoppages,  and  most  of  it  seems  to  have  been  devoted 
to  the  composing  of  stanzas  on  anything  that  happened 
to  turn  up.  Eveiybody,  from  the  passengers  to  the 
crew,  is  accused  of  perpetrating  some  of  these  poems. 
Most  of  them  are  rather  weak,  but  they  show  a great 
emotional  susceptibility  and  sensitiveness  to  the  charms 
of  nature.  “In  Japan,”  writes  Tsurayuka,  “and  China 
as  well,  humanity,  when  moved  by  sorrow,  tells  its 
bitter  grief  in  verse.”  1 

This  universal  love  of  poetry,  like  the  national  taste 
for  art,  is  an  inheritance  from  the  Middle  Ages.  In 
those  days  poets  were  honored  above  all  other  mortals ; 
a poet  could  by  means  of  a successful  stanza  attain  the 
rank  of  a councillor,  a poetess  the  rank  of  a lady  of 
honor  or  even  empress.  We  read  that  the  Shogun  Sa- 
netomo  “ was  so  extravagantly  fond  of  poetry  that  any 

1 This  little  book  has  been  translated  by  Flora  Best  Harris,  and  is 
published  by  Flood  and  Vincent,  Meadville,  Pa. 


THE  ESTHETIC  NATION 


311 


criminal  could  escape  punishment  by  offering  him  a 
well-written  stanza.”  To  this  day  it  is  said  that  would- 
be  suicides  often  leave  behind  a description  of  their 
woes  and  intentions  in  verse.  One  of  the  favorite 
amusements  at  social  gatherings  is  the  composing  of 
impromptu  verses  on  a given  subject.  But  the  most 
fanciful  use  of  poems  is  the  national  habit  of  hanging 
them  up  among  the  plum  and  cherry  blossoms.  There 
is  reason  for  thinking  that  this  custom  is  particularly 
appreciated  by  maidens  and  youths  in  a country  in 
which  flirtation  and  courtship  are  not  included  among 
the  legitimate  arts  of  social  life. 

A few  pages  ought  perhaps  to  be  devoted  in  this 
chapter  to  certain  branches  of  art  in  which  Japan  has 
gained  unique  distinction,  such  as  the  ornamenting  of 
sword  hilts,  the  fine  porcelain  and  pottery,  the  exquisite 
cloisonne  vases,  and  the  incomparable  lacquer-wares. 
But  enough  has  been  said  to  prove  the  thesis  advanced 
— that  Japan  is  the  esthetic  country  par  excellence. 
It  has  taught  our  greatest  artists  the  charms  of  simplic- 
ity and  irregularity ; it  has  shown  us  that  beautiful 
things  can  be  made  cheaply,  and  that  the  useful  and  the 
ornamental  can  be  united  in  the  humblest  utensils  in 
daily  use.  It  has  shown  us  that  with  the  aid  of  train- 
ing and  hereditary  transmission,  the  art  sense  can  be 
made  as  keen  and  fervent  as  the  religious  sense ; it 
might  almost  be  said  that  David  Friedrich  Strauss’s 
ideal  of  a nation  whose  civilization  is  based  on  esthetics 
instead  of  on  theology,  is  realized  in  Japan. 

Strange  to  say,  there  are  radicals  among  the  Japanese 
who  resent  our  regarding  their  country  as  a dreamland 
of  flowers,  poetry,  and  art.  Our  electric  machines,  big 
factories,  and  Krupp  guns  have  so  dazed  their  senses 


312 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


that  they  harbor  the  delusion  that  capitalists,  states- 
men, and  warriors  make  for  civilization  more  than 
artists,  poets,  and  the  worship  of  nature.  They  will 
learn  in  course  of  time  that  esthetic  culture  is  the  crown 
and  flower  of  civilization,  and  that  a nation  in  which  the 
love  of  art  is  universal  stands  on  a higher  level  than 
the  Occidentals,  of  whom  not  ten  per  cent  enjoy  the 
blessings  of  esthetic  culture. 


) 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 

CARE  FOR  PARENTS A PARADISE  OF  BABIES CHILDREN 

BORN  CIVILIZED  ■ — SCHOOL  AND  HOLIDAYS A THOUSAND 

YEARS  OF  POLITENESS A LANGUAGE  WITHOUT  PRO- 
FANITY  SMILING  IN  GRIEF ALTRUISM  VERSUS  EGO- 
TISM  AMERICAN  RUDENESS  TRANSITION  PERIOD NO 

FLAUNTING  OF  WEALTH AMERICAN  PLUTOCRACY 

INSIDE  AND  OUTSIDE KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS  THREE 

KINDS  OF  PATRIOTISM SHINTOISM  — CRIMINALS  AND 

CROWDS SAILORS HOW  TO  ENJOY  LIFE 

To  be  superior  to  all  other  countries  in  cleanliness 
and  in  the  sincere  appreciation  of  art  and  nature,  would 
surely  be  sufficient  honor  for  a nation  which  Occidentals, 
in  their  Pharisaic  vanity,  have  been  wont  to  treat  as 
semi-civilized.  But  the  Japanese  may  claim  much  more 
than  that.  In  morals  at  least  our  equals,  they  are  in 
general  refinement  of  manners  and  in  social  culture 
far  superior  to  Americans  and  Europeans.  To  prove 
this,  we  will  briefly  consider  the  following  seven  points: 
the  attitude  of  parents  and  children,  politeness,  con- 
tempt for  the  display  of  wealth,  kindness  to  animals, 
patriotism,  the  behavior  of  crowds  and  criminals,  the 
rational  enjoyment  of  life. 

Parents  and  Children.  — Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  justly 
holds  that  of  all  the  feelings  which  hold  the  family 
together,  filial  love,  or  the  care  of  parents  by  their  chil- 

313 


814 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


dren,  was  the  last  to  be  developed.  From  this  point  of 
view,  Japan  represents  a much  higher  stage  of  evolution 
than  we  do.  There,  filial  affection  has  long  been  the 
strongest  of  all  feelings,  whereas  we  are  still  in  that 
stage  of  semi-barbarism  wherein  children  indulge  in  the 
“luxury  of  disrespect  ” toward  parents.  There  is  noth- 
ing that  American  and  European  parents  dread  more 
than  the  idea  of  falling  a burden  to  their  children  in 
old  age,  although,  since  they  took  care  of  the  children 
for  twenty  years,  there  is  no  reason  why  the  children, 
in  turn,  should  not  provide  for  them.  In  Japan,  says 
Miss  Bacon,  a man 

“looks  with  scorn  on  foreign  customs  which  seem  to  betoken  a 
fear  lest,  in  old  age,  ungrateful  children  may  neglect  their  parents 
and  cast  them  aside.  An  aged  parent  is  never  a burden,  is  treated 
by  all  with  the  greatest  love  and  tenderness ; and  if  times  are  hard, 
and  food  and  other  comforts  are  scarce,  the  children,  as  a matter 
of  course,  deprive  themselves  and  their  children  to  give  ungrudg- 
ingly to  their  old  father  and  mother.  . . . Young  America  may 
learn  a salutary  lesson  by  the  study  of  the  place  that  old  people 
occupy  in  the  home.” 

Conversely,  the  treatment  of  children  by  parents 
makes  Japan  “ a very  paradise  of  babies,”  as  Sir  Ruth- 
erford Alcock  called  it.  Here  is  the  testimony  of  Miss 
Bird:  — 

“ I never  saw  people  take  so  much  delight  in  their  offspring, 
carrying  them  about,  or  holding  their  hands  in  walking,  watching 
and  entering  into  their  games,  supplying  them  constantly  with 
new  toys,  taking  them  to  picnics  and  festivals,  never  being  content 
to  be  without  them,  and  treating  other  people’s  children,  also, 
with  a suitable  measure  of  affection  and  attention.” 


Possibly,  Japanese  parents  do  not  love  their  childreti 
more  deeply  than  American  parents,  but  they  certainly 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


315 


love  them  more  wisely.  They  dress  them  more  sensibly, 
keep  them  healthy  by  constant  out-door  life,  bring  them 
up  on  the  food  intended  for  them  by  nature.  And  what 
is  the  result?  I was  in  Japan  three  weeks  before  I 
heard  a baby  cry,  and  I never  saw  any  of  them  quarrel 
or  fight,  among  all  the  thousands  I saw  in  the  streets 
and  the  open  houses.  Once  more  I beg  permission  to 
quote  Miss  Bacon,  who  had  very  unusual  opportunities 
for  studying  Japanese  family  life.  The  following  cita- 
tion is  so  important  and  suggestive,  that,  contrary  to 
the  usual  custom,  I must  ask  the  printer  to  put  it  into 
larger  type  than  the  author’s  text : — 

“A  Japanese  child  seems  to  be  the  product 

OF  A MORE  PERFECT  CIVILIZATION  THAN  OUR  OWN, 
FOR  IT  COMES  INTO  THE  WORLD  WITH  LITTLE  OF  THE 
SAVAGERY  AND  BARBARIAN  BAD  MANNERS  THAT  DIS- 
TINGUISH CHILDREN  IN  THIS  COUNTRY,  AND  THE 
FIRST  TEN  OR  FIFTEEN  YEARS  OF  ITS  LIFE  DO  NOT 
SEEM  TO  BE  PASSED  IN  ONE  LONG  STRUGGLE  TO 
ACQUIRE  A COATING  OF  GOOD  MANNERS  THAT  WILL 
HELP  TO  RENDER  IT  LESS  OBNOXIOUS  IN  POLITE 
SOCIETY.” 

The  implication  of  this  sentence  is  that  the  Japanese 
nation  has  been  civilized  so  many  generations  that  its 
children  are  born  civilized,  while  ours  too  often  pass 
through  the  evolutionary  stages  of  monkey  and  savage, 
before  they  reach  that  of  man  ; and  some  never  reach 
it.  ‘ There  is  no  need  of  scolding  or  punishing  Japanese 
children,  no  need  of  urging  them  to  go  to  school.  Japan 
is  probably  the  only  country  in  the  world  where  chil- 
dren prefer  school  to  holidays,  dearly  as  they  love  the 
latter.  As  to  their  behavior  in  school,  let  me  quote 


316 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


the  testimony  of  Mr.  Hearn  after  two  years’  experience 
in  various  places : “ I have  never  had  personal  knowl- 
edge of  any  serious  quarrel  between  students,  and  have 
never  even  heard  of  a fight  among  my  pupils,  and  I 
have  taught  some  eight  hundred  boys  and  young  men.” 
On  another  page  he  says : 44  Well,  I have  been  fourteen 
months  in  Izumo,  and  I have  not  yet  heard  voices  raised 
in  anger,  or  witnessed  a quarrel ; never  have  I seen 
one  man  strike  another,  or  a woman  bullied,  or  a child 
slapped.” 

Japan  has  no  society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Children.  It  does  not  need  one.  New  York  has 
one,  and  needs  it  badly.  During  the  first  twenty  years 
of  its  existence  it  received  and  investigated  86,969  com- 
plaints, involving  260,907  cases.  Yet  we  have  sent  six 
hundred  missionaries  to  civilize  the  Japanese ! 

Politeness.  — It  is  obvious  that  the  esthetic  taste  of 
the  Japanese  could  not  be  so  genuine  and  universal 
were  it  not  an  inheritance  — the  cumulative  result  of 
generations  of  art  culture  and  worship  of  nature.  It 
has  become  an  instinct,  like  a bird’s  untaught  knowl- 
edge how  to  build  a nest  or  bower.1 

So,  again,  it  is  obvious  that  Japanese  children  would 
not  be  born  free  from  the  44  savagery  and  barbarian  bad 
manners  that  distinguish  American  children,”  were  it 
not  that  civilization  is  so  much  older  in  their  country 
than  in  ours  that  gentle  manners  have  had  a chance  to 
become  instinctive,  through  hereditary  transmission. 
u Fine  manners  have  always  been  a fine  art  in  Japan,” 

1 The  aptness  of  this  comparison  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  Japanese 
taste  ceases  to  he  infallible  as  soon  as  it  has  to  do  with  new  conditions 
— foreign  costume  or  art  methods,  for  example.  A lark  cannot  build 
a swallow’s  nest.  An  interesting  essay  might  be  written  on  this 
theme. 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


317 


says  the  Rev.  W.  E.  Griffis.  “ Indeed,  it  is  said  that 
as  early  as  the  seventh  century  there  were  manuals  or 
treatises  on  politeness.”  And  in  course  of  these  twelve 
centuries  the  polish  of  the  Japanese  has  gradually 
become  so  smooth  and  enduring  that  there  is  nothing 
to  which  it  can  be  compared  except  their  own  lustrous 
lacquer. 

What  say  you  of  a people  whose  language  44  affords 
absolutely  no  means  of  cursing  and  swearing,”  as  we 
know  on  the  unimpeachable  authority  of  Basil  Hall 
Chamberlain,  emeritus  professor  of  Japanese  philology 
at  the  University  of  Tokyo?  Does  it  not  sound  almost 
incredible  in  this  44  Christian  ” country  of  ours,  where 
street  boys  measure  their  relative  44  smartness  ” by  their 
proficiency  in  profanity,  and  men  are  not  far  behind 
them  ? Mr.  W.  S.  Liscomb,  in  a letter  to  the  Providence 
Journal,  gives  an  amusing  illustration  of  the  utter  ina- 
bility of  the  untutored  Japanese  mind  even  to  compre- 
hend the  nature  of  profanity.  His  44  boy  ” and  cook 
one  day  had  a slight  misunderstanding,  and  the  boy 
complained  afterwards  that  the  cook  had  said  to  him 
44  G — d d — n your  soul.”  But  upon  investigating  the 
matter,  he  found  that  what  the  cook  had  really  said 
was  almost  exactly  equivalent  to  our  slang  phrase 
44  What  are  you  giving  us  ? ” The  absence  of  profane 
words  argues  the  absence  of  profane  and  ugly  feelings. 
Dr.  D.  B.  Simmons,  after  residing  thirty  years  in  Japan, 
says  on  the  question  of  scolding  by  women : 44 1 can 
hardly  remember  having  heard  this  kind  of  language 
from  their  lips.”  Similar  testimony  is  given  by  Maclay 
and  other  residents. 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  think  of  Japanese  girls 
except  as  smiling,  and  this  smile  is  taught  them  from 


818 


LOTOS -TIME  IK  JAPAK 


childhood  as  an  essential  part  of  etiquette,  which  re- 
quires them  to  keep  all  painful  emotions  hidden  from 
others.  So  far  does  this  rule  extend,  that  they  must 
even  wear  a smiling  face  in  telling  you  of  a great  loss 
or  the  death  of  a relative.  Ignorance  of  this  matter 
has  been  the  cause  of  grave  and  absurd  errors  in  judg- 
ing Japanese  character.1 

In  many  details  Japanese  manners  show  a refinement 
and  courtesy  almost  incomprehensible  to  coarse  Western 
minds.  To  give  only  one  illustration  from  Conger. 
Visitors  are  often  invited  to  make  extempore  arrange- 
ments of  flowers  placed  before  them. 

“ Should  the  master  of  the  house  produce  a very  rare  and  valu- 
able vessel  for  holding  the  floral  arrangement,  it  is  polite  for  the 
guest  to  make  objections,  pleading  want  of  sufficient  skill  to  do 
justice  to  so  precious  a receptacle.  If  pressed,  however,  he  must 
attempt  a simple  and  unassuming  arrangement  of  flowers  so  as  not 
to  detract  from  the  merit  of  the  vessel  itself.” 

The  desire  to  please  is  the  dominant  feeling  in  the 
Japanese  mind.  Altruism  takes  the  place  of  egotism, 
wherefore,  “in  Japanese  society,  sarcasm,  irony,  cruel 
wit,  are  not  indulged.”  “ No  one  endeavors  to  expand 
his  own  individuality  by  belittling  his  fellows ; no  one 
tries  to  make  himself  appear  a superior  being  ” (Hearn). 
Does  not  half  the  misery  in  Christian  America  spring 
from  cruel  gossip,  from  everybody’s  anxiety  to  appear 
socially  superior  to  others,  and  to  make  them  feel  their 
inferiority  ? 

If  we  could  induce  six  hundred  Japanese  missionaries 

1 Many  writers  have  discoursed  on  this  matter,  but  Mr.  Lafcadio 
Hearn  has  surpassed  them  all  in  a chapter  headed  “The  Japanese 
Smile,”  which  I commend  to  every  reader  as  a masterpiece  of  com- 
parative ethnic  psychology. 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


319 


to  come  to  America,  they  might  begin  operations  by  con- 
trasting the  kindness  of  Japanese  coolies,  who  would  not 
run  over  or  disturb  even  a dog  in  the  streets,  with  the 
brutality  of  our  drivers,  which  makes  it  necessary  in  our 
cities  to  place  a policeman  at  every  street  crossing  to 
enable  persons  on  foot  to  get  across  without  risk  to  life 
and  limb.  They  might  tell  our  lower  classes  that  habit- 
ual rudeness  toward  their  superiors  is  not  a good  way 
to  show  their  “ equality.”  They  might  explain  that  if 
a Japanese  railway  company  hung  up  in  its  cars  the 
notice,  posted  in  every  car  of  the  New  York  elevated 
railroad : “ Employees  of  this  road  are  required  to  be 
courteous  in  their  treatment  of  passengers,”  it  would 
cause  a ripple  of  laughter  from  Nagasaki  to  Sapporo. 
They  might  say  to  American  women  that  their  almost 
incredible  rudeness  in  keeping  on,  year  after  year,  their 
big  hats  in  theatres,  in  spite  of  all  entreaties  and 
remonstrances  from  those  who  are  thus  deprived  of 
pleasures  much  needed  for  recreation  and  dearly  paid 
for,  would  be  absolutely  inconceivable  in  Japan,  the 
only  nation  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  the  world. 
They  might  tell  our  women  how  un-Japanese,  i.e.  un- 
ladylike, it  is  to  treat  shopgirls  and  servants  as  super- 
ciliously as  many  of  them  do. 

It  .is  in  such  points  as  these  — the  consideration  for 
the  feelings  even  of  servants,  the  avoidance  of  profanity 
and  cruel  gossip,  the  altruistic  smile  even  in  grief,  the 
universal  desire  to  please  — that  the  Japanese  show 
their  true  heart-politeness,  rather  than  by  their  bobbing 
and  bowing  and  kneeling,  which,  to  tell  the  truth, 
are  as  exaggerated  and  absurd  as  their  “ honorifics  ” ; 
that  is,  their  habit  of  speaking  of  their  “ stupid  ” selves 
and  wives,  and  of  the  “ honorable  ” other  persons.  It 


820 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


is  therefore  just  as  well  that  this  old-fashioned  etiquette 
is  no  longer  taught  in  boys’  schools,  and  that  even  the 
girls  are  beginning  to  make  fun  of  it.  There  is,  of 
course,  some  danger  of  their  going  too  far  during  the 
transition  period  and  copying  Miss  Bird’s  guide  Ito, 
who  explained  his  occasional  rudeness  as  “just  mis- 
sionary manners  ” ; but  we  may  feel  sure  that  the 
inherited  heart-politeness  of  the  Japanese  will  survive 
the  wreck  of  excessive  bowing  formalities  and  linguistic 
honorifics. 

Contempt  for  Display  of  Wealth.  — Once  upon  a time, 
in  a certain  American  city,  I met  a girl  who  told  me 
about  a ball  she  had  attended  on  the  previous  evening  : 
“ I danced  with  a young  man  who  was  an  expert  in 
women’s  gowns.  J ust  think ! he  could  tell  me  the  price 
per  yard  of  every  woman’s  dress  in  the  room,  including 
my  own.  Fortunately ,”  she  added,  “ mine  was  very 
expensive .”  At  the  risk  of  seeming  rude,  I could  not 
help  smiling  at  this  very  naive  illustration  of  the  ten- 
dency of  this  Great  Republic  to  drift  into  a state  of 
plutocracy  in  which  things  as  well  as  persons  are 
estimated  entirely  by  their  money  value.  Flowers,  for 
instance,  are  valued  in  “Society”  only  when  they  are  out 
of  season,  because  they  are  then  more  costly.  Bouquets 
are  judged,  not  by  their  beauty  and  arrangement,  but  by 
their  cost,  often  even  by  their  size.  Newspapers  chron- 
icle the  doings,  not  of  men  of  brains  (with  a few  con- 
spicuous exceptions),  but  of  men  of  wealth,  no  matter 
how  illiterate,  boorish,  and  rascally  they  may  be.  Rich 
women  have  their  gowns  described  at  the  Opera  and  the 
Horse  Show,  and  every  rich  girl  is  a “ beaut}?"  ” in  the 
newspapers,  though  in  life  she  may  be  a veritable  fright. 
If  the  average  American  sees  a fine  building,  his  first 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


321 


question  is  “ How  much  did  it  cost?”  James  Russell 
Lowell  wrote  that  Thoreau’s  “ whole  life  was  a rebuke 
of  the  waste  and  aimlessness  of  our  American  luxury, 
which  is  an  abject  enslavement  to  tawdry  upholstery.” 

From  this  point  of  view,  again,  Japan  is  infinitely 
more  civilized  than  America.  Why?  Let  Professor 
Chamberlain  answer : — 

“ The  bluster  which  mistakes  bigness  for  greatness,  the  vulgar- 
ity which  smothers  beauty  under  ostentation  and  extravagance,  have 
no  place  in  the  Japanese  way  of  thinking.  The  alcove  of  a Tokyo 
or  Kyoto  drawing-room  holds  one  picture  and  one  flower  vase, 
which  are  changed  from  time  to  time.  To  be  sure,  picture  and 
vase  are  alike  exquisite.  The  possessions  of  the  master  of  the 
house  are  not  sown  broadcast,  as  much  as  to  say,  ‘ Look  what  a 
lot  of  expensive  articles  I’ve  got,  and  just  think  how  jolly  rich  I 
must  be  ! ’ He  does  not  stick  up  plates  on  walls  — plates  are  meant 
to  hold  food.  He  would  not,  whatever  might  be  his  means,  waste 
£1000,  or  £100,  or  even  £20,  on  the  flowers  for  a single  party : 
flowers  are  natural  things,  simple  things;  it  is  incongruous  to 
treat  them  like  precious  stones.” 

Instead  of  valuing  flowers  out  of  season  because  of 
their  expensiveness,  the  Japanese  have  a strict  rule  that 
they  must  be  in  season  to  be  in  fashion.  They  go  so 
far  as  to  taboo  certain  flowers  at  certain  times  because 
they  properly  belong  to  another  season ; for  example, 
late  peach  blossoms. 

Snobbishness,  the  insolent  conceit  of  birth  or  wealth, 
or  the  aping  and  worshipping  of  it,  is  not  a Japanese  vice. 
“ Daimyos,”  says  the  Tokyo  Times,  “ have  been  mem- 
bers of  college  classes  in  Tokyo  for  months  before  acci- 
dent made  their  rank  known  to  their  foreign  teachers.” 
In  Japanese  towns  you  can  rarely  tell  from  the  street 
side  of  a house  whether  its  owner  is  rich  or  poor.  He 
does  not  wish  to  flaunt  his  wealth  any  more  than  his 


322 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


rank  in  the  face  of  others.  Such  wealth  as  he  may- 
have  to  spare,  he  spends  on  works  of  art  and  on  his 
garden,  which  is  behind  the  house.  Only  the  foreign 
buildings  in  Tokyo  have  their  gardens  in  front. 

Speaking  of  Japanese  attire,  Mr.  Wores  says  that 
“ the  lining  of  their  gowns  is  often  of  a more  expensive 
and  finer  material  than  the  outer  stuff.”  Everybody 
knows,  too,  that  it  is  a characteristic  of  Japanese 
embroidered  silks  that  there  is  no  seamy  side  to  them, 
the  lower  side  being  as  beautiful  as  the  upper.  I have 
before  me  a little  Japanese  metal  tray,  which  cost  fifty 
cents  in  New  York  and  probably  fifteen  in  Japan.  The 
upper  side  represents  a maiden  standing  on  a fantastic 
dragon.  On  the  lower  side  the  artist  has  ingeniously 
shaped  this  haut-relief  into  an  intaglio  of  a lotos  plant. 
Only  an  inborn  love  of  art  for  art’s  sake  could  thus 
induce  a workman  to  emulate  nature  in  making  the 
unseen  as  beautiful  as  the  seen.  In  such  sincerity  of 
soul  there  is  infinitely  more  of  the  true  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity than  in  the  building  of  six  denominational  chapels 
for  every  sixteen  missionaries. 

The  ostentatious  display  of  wealth  is  in  truth  nothing 
but  a phase  of  our  Occidental  lack  of  true  politeness ; it 
is  an  attempt  to  make  others  feel  their  “inferiority” 
and  to  arouse  their  envy.  Here  lies  the  true  inward- 
ness of  our  frequent  changes  of  fashion  in  women’s 
gowns,  which  cause  so  much  needless  expense  and  jeal- 
ous heartburnings.  The  rich  introduce  these  changes, 
knowing  that  the  less  favored  cannot  at  once  follow 
their  example,  whereby  the  desired  plutocratic  distinc- 
tion is  established. 

Kindness  to  Animals.  — From  a moral  point  of  view 
Christianity  is  unquestionably  the  greatest  of  all  relig- 


A SUPEKIOIi  CIVILIZATION 


323 


ions,  but  in  one  respect  it  is  sadly  inferior  to  Bud- 
dhism and  even  to  ancient  Paganism,  or  some  of  its 
representatives.  The  Old  Testament  forbade  the  muz- 
zling of  an  ox  that  treadeth  out  the  corn,  the  seething 
of  a kid  in  its  mother’s  milk,  the  taking  of  a parent  bird 
sitting  on  its  young  or  on  its  eggs ; but  the  New  Testa- 
ment view  is  summed  up  in  St.  Paul’s  contemptuous 
question,  “ Doth  God  take  care  for  oxen  ? ” 1 It  makes 
one  melancholy  to  think  what  an  incalculable  amount 
of  suffering  might  have  been  spared  the  animals  of 
Christendom  if  the  New  Testament  had  emphatically 
enjoined  the  virtue  and  duty  of  kindness  to  animals; 
melancholy  to  read  the  annual  reports  of  the  New  York 
Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals  with 
its  sickening  record  of  outrages  on  helpless  animals, 
man’s  best  friends ; melancholy  to  think  that  Christian 
women  encourage  the  slaughter  of  thousands  of  beauti- 
ful birds  at  nesting  time  for  their  feathers,  leaving  the 
young  to  die  in  the  agonies  of  starvation.  Buddhism 
may  not  have  proved  an  unmixed  blessing  to  Japan, 
but  it  has  taught,  among  other  virtues,  that  of  kindness 
to  animals.  We  may  laugh  at  Buddhist  priests  sweep- 
ing the  path  before  them  lest  they  step  on  insects,  or 
refusing  to  drink  unfiltered  water  for  fear  of  killing 
minute  animals.  We  ipay  smile  on  reading  in  Kaemp- 
fer  that  dogs  are  “ treated  like  regular  citizens  of  the 
town  ” ; or  on  finding  that  to  this  day  animals  have 
their  regular  graveyards,  and  that  in  some  temples 
prayers  are  even  offered  up  to  them ; but  we  must 
admit,  with  Mr.  Hearn,  that  “ surely  nothing  save 
goodness  can  be  expected  from  a people  gentle-hearted 

1 See  the  fourth  chapter  of  Lecky’s  History  of  European  Morals , 
where  this  question  is  admirably  discussed. 


824 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


enough  to  pray  for  the  souls  of  their  horses  and  cows.” 
And  we  must  admit  that  the  national  kindness  toward 
animals  must  have  been  enormously  efficacious  in 
making  men  kind  to  each  other,  since  we  know  that 
nothing  makes  our  own  children  so  considerate  as 
teaching  them  to  treat  their  pets  gently. 

With  the  exception  of  the  slicing  of  raw  fish,  the  bru- 
tality of  drunken  soldiers  (now  suppressed),  and  the 
occasional  maltreatment  of  a car-horse  in  Tokyo,  there 
are  hardly  any  instances  on  record  of  Japanese  cruelty 
toward  animals,  although  there  has  never  been  a law 
against  it.  “ The  taking  of  life  being  displeasing  to 
Buddha,”  says  Mitford,  “ outside  many  of  the  temples 
old  women  and  children  earn  a livelihood  by  selling 
sparrows,  small  eels,  carp,  and  tortoises,  which  the  wor- 
shipper sets  free  in  honor  of  the  deity.”  “ In  Tokio,” 
says  Mr.  Griffis,  “ I used  to  notice  old  women  sitting  on 
the  bridges  and  selling  young  eels.  These  were  bought 
by  passers  by,  and  immediately  dropped  into  the  canal 
below,  in  pious  memory  of  deceased  relatives,  and  to 
shorten  their  pains  in  the  Buddhist  purgatory.”  All 
cruel  sports,  such  as  hunting  and  cock-fighting,  come 
under  the  ban  of  Buddhism. 

Patriotism.  — There  are  three  varieties  of  patriotism, 
one  of  which,  however,  hardly  deserves  so  honorable  a 
name.  They  are  based  respectively  on  vanity,  defen- 
sive pugnacity,  and  real  love  of  country.  The  first 
variety  is  that  which  leads  a Hottentot  to  think  he  is 
better  than  a Kaffir  ; an  Englishman,  that  all  foreigners 
are  stupid  unless  they  conform  to  his  insular  preju- 
dices ; a German,  that  all  other  nations  are  ignora- 
muses ; a Frenchman,  that  nothing  important  ever 
happens  outside  of  Paris  ; and  so  on.  It  is  a harmless 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


325 


but  rather  offensive  form  of  vanity,  a national  egotism, 
the  proper  name  for  which  is  chauvinism. 

The  second  form  of  patriotism  wears  a military  cloak 
and  has  given  rise  to  many  noble  acts  of  heroism  and 
self-sacrifice  in  the  past.  Yet  it  must  not  be  forgotten 
that  many  soldiers  remain  at  their  post  only  because 
desertion  means  death  ; nor  must  it  be  overlooked  that 
in  most  wars  men  fight  for  their  home  and  families,  and 
therefore  have  a strong  selfish  reason  for  their  courage. 

The  highest  form  of  patriotism  is  the  altruistic  vari- 
ety, which  is  manifested  in  love  of  one’s  country  for 
its  own  sake,  and  in  the  willingness  and  desire  to  obey 
its  laws,  and  preserve  its  honor  at  home  and  abroad. 
This  phase  of  patriotism  is  still  in  its  infancy  in  our 
Commonwealth.  What  ideas  of  devotion  are  evoked 
in  the  mind  of  an  American  by  the  words,  u politi- 
cian,” “senator,”  “alderman”?  Is  public  office  gen- 
erally regarded  as  a public  trust,  or  as  a public  cow 
which  every  one  who  can  get  at  the  udders  milks 
for  his  private  benefit?  What  a noble  exhibition  of 
American  patriotism  is  our  pension  system,  the  most 
gigantic  swindle  on  record  in  all  history  — the  annual 
expenditure  of  nearly  1150,000,000,  at  least  one-half  of 
which  goes  to  dishonest  pretenders  who,  aside  from 
their  private  immorality,  are  bringing  the  very  idea  of 
patriotic  service  in  the  army  into  disrepute,  as  a thing 
done  for  money ! 

In  place  of  this  what  do  our  six  hundred  missionaries 
find  in  Japan?  They  find  there  Shintoism.  And  what 
are  the  virtues  especially  insisted  upon  and  realized  by 
Shintoism  ? They  are  cleanliness,  courage,  courtesy, 
personal  honor,  and  above  all,  patriotism,  or  loyalty  to 
the  country  and  its  ruler.  A Japanese,  be  he  a noble 


326 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


or  a coolie,  never  hesitates  to  sacrifice  his  life  for  his 
personal  honor.  Shintoism  has  taught  him  that.  “ The 
spirit  of  Shintoism,”  says  Mr.  Hearn,  “is  the  spirit  of 
filial  piety,  the  zest  of  duty,  the  readiness  to  surrender 
life  for  a principle  without  a thought  of  wherefore. 
. . . Ask  a class  of  Japanese  students  — young  stu- 
dents of  fourteen  to  sixteen  — to  tell  their  dearest 
wishes  ; and  if  they  have  confidence  in  the  questioner, 
perhaps  nine  out  of  ten  will  answer  : 4 To  die  for  his 
Majesty,  our  Emperor.’  And  the  wish  soars  from  the 
heart  pure  as  any  wish  for  martyrdom  ever  born.” 

One  Oriental  genre  picture  must  suffice  to  picture 
this  phase  of  Japanese  patriotism.  Nine  days  after  the 
murderous  attack  on  the  Czarewitch  by  a fanatic  police- 
man at  Otsu,  in  May,  1891,  a young  woman  of  respect- 
able appearance  cut  her  throat  in  front  of  the  local 
government  buildings  in  Ky5to.  The  wound  did  not 
prove  fatal,  and  the  girl  afterwards  confessed  that  she 
had  come  to  apologize  to  the  Czarewitch  for  the  shame- 
ful crime  of  her  countryman,  but  finding  him  gone  she 
had  resorted  to  this  method  to  prove  the  sincerity  of 
her  motives.  In  Japanese  annals  suicide  to  vindicate 
national  honor  is  an  event  of  frequent  occurrence.  It 
may  seem  foolish  to  us,  but  it  indicates  the  profound 
depth  of  patriotic  sentiment. 

Criminals  and  Crowds. — Nothing  proves  the  innate, 
inherited  culture  of  the  Japanese  more  cogently  than 
the  fact  that  even  their  criminals  are  less  degraded  and 
brutal  than  ours.  The  reader  may  remember  the  sur- 
prise I expressed  in  the  Yezo  forest,  among  the  “ dan- 
gerous ” convicts,  at  finding  that  “ criminals  could  be  so 
urbane  and  gentlemanly,  so  cheerful  and  musical.”  I 
got  the  impression  that  most  of  them  must  have  com- 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


327 


mitted  their  crime  not  from  natural  viciousness,  but 
under  the  influence  of  drink  ; an  impression  confirmed 
by  the  fact  that  these  men  did  not  have  the  characteristic 
brutish  expression  which  enabled  Mr.  Galton  to  make  a 
composite  portrait  typical  of  the  British  criminal. 

With  these  experiences  I beg  the  reader  to  compare 
the  account  of  a Tokyo  prison  in  Mr.  Norman’s  The 
Real  Japan , from  which  I will  cite  only  two  sentences  : 
“ I could  not  help  wondering  whether  there  was  another 
prison  in  the  world  with  no  method  of  punishment  for 
2000  criminals  except  one  dark  cell,  and  that  not  used 
for  a month.”  In  one  department  of  this  prison  he 
found  “ sixty  men,  common  thieves  and  burglars  and 
peace  breakers,  utterly  ignorant  previously  of  cloi- 
sonne making,  now  making  beautiful  and  delicate  ware. 
Fancy  the  attempt  to  teach  such  a thing  at  Pentonville 
or  Dartmoor  or  Sing-Sing  ! ” ♦ 

Crowds  in  America  or  Europe  are  very  apt  to  de- 
generate into  mobs,  and  wherever  they  congregate  squads 
of  police  are  immediately  despatched.  Of  Japanese 
crowds,  Major-General  Palmer  says  that 16  police  in  such 
a throng,  it  seems  to  us,  can  have  no  more  to  do  than  the 
lilies  of  the  valley.”  The  following  clipping  from  the 
Japan  Mail  shows  the  efficacy  of  the  police  system 
where  it  is  needed : — 

“ Kanda  is  a district  of  Tokyo  where  all  sorts  of  queer  things 
are  constantly  happening.  It  is  the  great  student  quarter,  the 
Quartier  Latin,  of  the  metropolis,  and  statistics  show  that  it  boasts 
the  largest  number  of  wineshops,  tobacconists,  bookstores,  and 
sly  brothels.  The  first  and  last  of  these  categories  generally  run 
in  couples.  Fires  are  most  frequent  there  ; brawls  and  ‘ rows  ’ of 
almost  daily  occurrence.  Yet  there  is  no  part  of  the  district 
through  which  one  may  not  walk  with  perfect  safety  at  night.  And 
of  what  great  Continental  city  may  as  much  be  said?” 


328 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


Take  one  more  illustration  of  our  general  theme  that 
the  Japanese  are  naturally  more  civilized  than  the  cor- 
responding class  with  us.  Our  sailors  have  not  exactly 
an  enviable  reputation  for  refinement  of  manners.  How 
is  it  in  Japan  ? Mr.  Hearn  (238)  has  the  floor:  — 

“ These  Japanese  seamen  are  very  gentle  compared  with  our  Jack 
Tars,  and  not  without  a certain  refinement  and  politeness  of  their 
own.  ...  It  is  quite  pleasant  to  watch  their  feasting  across  the 
street.  Perhaps  their  laughter  is  somewhat  more  boisterous  and 
their  gesticulation  a little  more  vehement  than  those  of  the  com- 
mon citizens ; but  there  is  nothing  resembling  real  roughness  — 
much  less  real  rudeness.  . . . And  as  the  wine  flows,  the  more 
urbane  becomes  the  merriment,  — until  there  falls  upon  all  that 
pleasant  sleepiness  which  sake  brings,  and  the  guests,  one  by  one, 
smilingly  depart.  Nothing  could  be  happier  or  gentler  than  their 
evening’s  joviality ; — yet  sailors  are  considered  in  Japan  an  es- 
pecially rough  class.  What  would  be  thought  of  our  roughs  in 
such  a country  ? ” 

♦ 

Enjoyment  of  Life.  — The  Puritans,  says  Macaulay, 
“ hated  bear-baiting,  not  because  it  gave  pain  to  the 
bear,  but  because  it  gave  pleasure  to  the  spectators.” 
To-day  the  “infamous  charge  of  Puritanism”  (to 
quote  a phrase  of  Swinburne)  could  hardly  be  brought 
against  the  English  or  Americans.  A trace  of  it  lin- 
gers, but  the  legitimac}r,  desirability,  and  hygienic  value 
of  pleasure  are  pretty  generally  conceded.  Neverthe- 
less, there  has  perhaps  never  been  a people  so  unskilled 
in  the  art  of  enjoying  life  as  Americans,  although  no 
other  nation  has  ever  been  so  plentifully  supplied  with 
the  material  comforts  of  life.  Our  men  chase  the  dollar, 
not  only  while  they  need  it,  but  long  after  it  has  become 
a superfluit}7  and  a burden,  and  finally  die  without  hav- 
ing ever  made  any  rational  use  of  their  wealth.  Our 
millionaires  are  the  unliappiest  of  mortals.  And  when 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


329 


American  men  meet,  as  a rule,  they  do  not  rest  or  play, 
but  weary  their  brains  still  more  by  “talking  shop.” 
Our  women  have  learned  the  art  of  loafing  gracefully, 
at  least  in  summer  , but  at  home  they  too  often  wear 
themselves  out  with  social  jealousies,  household  worries, 
gowns  and  other  luxuries  that  are  a good  deal  more 
of  a bother  and  torment  than  a pleasure.  On  all  these 
points  we  can  learn  a great  deal  by  studying  the  higher 
civilization  across  the  Pacific. 

The  Japanese  are  too  wise  to  continue  the  chase  of  the 
dollar  after  they  have  earned  enough  to  end  their  days 
in  comfort.  They  altruistically  give  others  a chance 
by  voluntarily  dropping  out  of  the  race  and  competition, 
and  spending  the  latter  pai*t  of  their  life  in  elegant 
leisure,  enjoying  nature,  travel,  art,  literature,  and  the 
society  of  relatives  and  friends.  Is  not  this  infinitely 
more  rational  and  civilized  than  our  way  of  dying  in 
harness,  without  having  ever  been  turned  loose  in  the 
green  fields  and  pastures  — a privilege  we  grant  even 
to  our  old  horses  ? 

Our  Japanese  neighbors  have  learned  that  happiness 
consists  not  in  having  all  you  want  but  in  wanting  no 
more  than  you  have.  Their  average  earnings  are  esti- 
mated at  twenty  cents  a day,  yet  they  are  the  hap- 
piest people  in  the  world.  Many  of  the  peasants  are 
too  poor  to  eat  the  rice  they  cultivate  in  the  sweat 
of  their  brow.  Yet  after  toiling  all  day  they  go  home, 
take  a bath,  eat  a frugal  meal  of  millet,  pickles,  and  tea, 
smoke  a thimble  pipe,  play  with  their  children,  and 
look  contented  and  happy.  Of  the  coolie  in  general, 
Mr.  Anderson  says  he  is  “ childlike  in  his  joys  and 
sorrows,  polite  and  kindly  in  disposition,  . . . and 
careless  as  to  who  the  masters,  and  what  the  state 


330 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


of  religion,  so  Tong  as  his  sufficient  allowance  of  rice, 
his  inexpensive  luxuries,  and  periodic  holidays  come 
without  undue  effort  to  win  them.”  And  so  on  with 
the  other  classes,  the  shopkeepers,  for  instance,  of 
whom  Miss  Bacon  says  that  they  “have  still  time  to 
enjoy  their  holidays  and  their  little  gardens,  and  have 
more  pleasure  and  less  hard  work  than  those  under 
similar  circumstances  in  our  own  country.”  So  that 
in  every  sphere  we  find  more  pleasure  and  less  grinding 
work  than  with  us.  Is  not  that  the  goal  of  our  civil- 
ization ; the  object  of  all  our  labor  unions  and  indus- 
trial wars  ? Yet  we  fancy  it  is  our  mission  to  civilize 
the  Japanese  ! 

Busy  Americans  have*  gradually  reached  a point 
where  they  consider  it  almost  a crime,  and  certainly  a 
waste  of  time,  to  read  books,  or  attend  plays ; and 
when  they  take  a vacation,  they  think  it  necessary  to 
apologize  for  it,  on  the  ground  that  they  need  it  for 
their  health  and  to  gain  fresh  energy  for  work.  We 
laugh  at  the  Japanese  for  going  to  the  theatre  in  the 
morning,  and  Richard  Wagner  aroused  no  end  of  sar- 
castic comment  when  he  wanted  people  to  look  on  his 
art  seriously  and  come  to  it  in  the  daytime  with  fresh 
and  vigorous  brains.  But  I think  the  Japanese  could 
easily  turn  the  laugh  on  us,  and  that  too  by  quoting  one 
of  our  own  brightest  social  philosophers,  Mr.  Charles 
Dudley  Warner,  in  a passage  wherein  he  refers  to 

“the  practice,  if  not  the  theory,  of  our  society — to  postpone  the 
delights  of  social  intercourse  until  after  dark,  or  rather  late  at 
night,  when  body  and  mind  are  both  weary  with  the  exertions  of 
business,  and  when  we  can  give  to  what  is  the  most  delightful  and 
profitable  thing  in  life,  social  and  intellectual  society,  only  the 
weariness  of  dull  brains  and  over-tired  muscles.  No  wonder  we 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


381 


take  our  amusements  sadly,  and  that  so  many  people  find  dinners 
heavy  and  parties  stupid.  Our  economy  leaves  no  place  for  amuse- 
ments ; we  merely  add  them  to  the  burden  of  a life  already  full. 
The  world  is  still  a little  off  the  track  as  to  what  is  really  useful.” 

These  are  golden  words  of  censure  that  could  never 
have  been  written  of  the  Japanese.  But  the  climax  is 
still  to  come.  It  is  not  in  the  enjoyment  of  Recreation, 
after  all,  but  of  Work  that  Japan  will  prove  our  most 
beneficial  teacher,  if  we  will  but  try  to  learn  from  her. 
The  late  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  used  to  declare  that 
machinery  and  the  division  of  labor  had  utterly  ban- 
ished all  a man’s  joy  in  his  work  ; and  that  it  was  by 
insisting  on  the  necessity  for  that  joy  that  Ruskin  had 
best  served  the  world.  The  greatest  objection  to  the 
multiplication  of  modern  machinery  is  not  that  it  takes 
away  work  from  many  (for  they  can  still  seek  other 
employment),  but  that  it  makes  all  such  work  joyless, 
reducing  laborers  to  the  level  of  machines,  caring  no 
more  than  the  machines  how  the  goods  comes  out  and 
what  becomes  of  them.  In  Europe  and  America  it  is 
only  the  author,  the  scientific  inventor,  and  the  artist 
that  enjoy  the  esthetic  thrill  of  creative  work.  In 
Japan  the  humblest  artisan,  making  the  humblest 
kitchen  utensil,  enjoys  his  work  because  he  uses  his 
brain  and  his  taste  as  well  as  his  hands  in  shaping  and 
adorning  it.  How  much  the  greatest  happiness  of  the 
greatest  number  is  raised  by  this,  is  obvious. 

The  idea  that  Japanese  civilization  began  with  the 
appearance  of  Commodore  Perry’s  gunboats,  forty 
years  ago,  is  still  amazingly  prevalent  in  our  midst. 
I have  before  me  a leading  Boston  paper  of  February 
16,  1895,  with  an  article  entitled  “ Back  to  Barbarism,” 
the  author  of  which  notes,  among  other  oddities,  the 


332 


LOTOS-TIME  IN  JAPAN 


curious  fact  that  such  highly  civilized  persons  as  Sir  * 
Edwin  Arnold  and  Pierre  Loti  should  have  been  con- 
tented to  live  for  a time  in  Japan  ! He  admits,  it 
is  true,  that  “in  the  teeth  of  current  cablegrams,” 
about  the  war  with  China,  “it  may  be  presumptuous 
to  class  Japan  among  barbarous  nations.  But  it  is  at 
least  not  the  country  of  the  steamboat  and  the  railway, 
though  it  has  adopted  the  ironclad  with  success.” 

In  this  man’s  mind  — and  he  represents  a large  class 
of  persons  — civilization  obviously  consists  in  railways, 
ironclads,  and  success  in  waging  war.  If  judged  by 
his  own  standard,  he  would  have  to  acknowledge  that 
our  own  “ civilization  ” is  very  recent  indeed,  since 
we  have  had  railways  and  ironclads  less  than  a cen- 
tury. In  truth,  railways,  telegraphs,  telephones,  and 
the  like  are  simply  comforts  of  life,  having  absolutely 
nothing  to  do  with  real  civilization,  which,  in  so  far 
as  it  affects  the  refinement  and  happiness  of  mankind, 
is  purely  a mental  product. 

There  is  great  danger  ahead  for  J apan  — danger 
that  she  will  introduce  our  factory  chimneys,  and  whis- 
tles, and  soot,  and  machinery,  and  division  of  labor, 
and  thus  destroy  the  artistic  joy  in  work,  which  is  the 
highest  product  of  her  civilization.  But  if  she  will 
heed  the  warning  voices  from  the  West,  and  avoid  that 
danger,  it  will  be  for  us  to  be  on  our  guard  lest  Japan 
entirely  outstrip  us  in  the  race  for  supremacy.  She 
is  systematically  adopting  all  that  is  really  sound  in 
our  Western  institutions,  and  unless  we  follow  her 
example  and  graft  the  best  features  of  her  moral  and 
social  institutions  on  our  own  habits,  we  shall  be  left 
in  the  lurch,  and  the  sociologists  of  the  Far  East  will 
in  a future  century  look  at  us  across  the  Pacific  as  we 


A SUPERIOR  CIVILIZATION 


333 


do  at  our  untutored  mediaeval  ancestors  in  Europe. 
The  reader  may  smile  at  this  contingency,  but  it  would 
be  simply  a restoration  of  what  has  been  before.  A 
few  years  ago  Captain  Brinkley  heard  an  Englishman 
say  to  his  Japanese  guide:  “Japan  has  become  quite 
civilized,  I suppose,  in  the  last  twenty  years ; ” upon 
which  he  commented  as  follows  in  the  Japan  Mail: 
u This  very  courteous  representative  of  advanced  civil- 
ization was  evidently  ignorant  that  when  his  own  an- 
cestors dressed  in  untanned  skins  and  fed  upon  acorns, 
the  Japanese  wore  silks  and  had  reached  a high  pitch 
of  refinement  in  their  general  mode  of  life.” 


INDEX 


Ainos,  120,  174-177,  187,  197-202. 
Alcock,  37,  94,  287. 

America  in  Japan,  153-165. 

Animals,  kindness  to,  205,  322-324. 
Archery  gallery,  64. 

Architecture,  209,  229,  301. 

Arnold,  Sir  E.,  74,  79. 

Art,  at  Exhibition,  104,  105 ; in  inns, 
137,  138;  Nikko  temples,  229;  ka- 
kemonos, 265. 

Asakusa,  63. 

Bacon,  Miss  A.,  77,  289,  314,  315,  330. 
Barbers,  11,  138. 

Bathing,  19,  140,  145,  149,  152,  162, 
167,  170,  206,  241,  243,  286-297. 
Bears,  159,  177,  208. 

Beauty  ( see  Women) . 

Beds,  126. 

Beer,  27,  219. 

Beggars,  16. 

Bird,  L,  44,  86,  290,  314. 

Biwa,  Lake,  248,  268. 

Black,  109,  190,  288. 

Blum,  R.,  26,  68,  78,  83. 

Brinkley,  333. 

Buddhist  temples,  63,  136 ; and 
priests,  257-260. 

Canadian  Pacific,  1,  2. 

Carriages,  12,  62. 

Chamberlain,  B.  H.,  7,  37, 82,  93, 112, 
292,  304,  317,  321. 

Chastity,  284. 

Children,  50,  66,  67,  220,  313-316. 
Cholera,  121,  207,  209,  215,  218,  244, 
255. 

Chopsticks,  85. 


Christians  in  Japan,  280. 

Chusenji,  237. 

Civilization,  Japanese,  72,  313-333. 
Climate,  54,  57,  117,  118,  178,  213.. 
Clogs,  25. 

Clubs,  14,  15. 

Coal  mine,  168. 

Conder,  305,  318. 

Costume,  7,  42,  47,  112,  139,  144,  251 
296. 

Criminals,  169,  184,  326. 

Crowds,  66,  291,  327. 

Curiosity,  16,  214. 

Daimyos,  39. 

Dancing,  87,  88,  230. 

Dittrich,  120. 

Dogs,  172,  205. 

Earthquakes,  13. 

East,  A.,  301. 

Eating  ( see  Gastronomy). 
Enjoyment  of  life,  328-331. 
Enoshima,  21. 

Esthetics,  at  a banquet,  78-84. 
Evening  dress,  112,  115. 

Exhibition,  103-116. 

Expenses,  1,  127,  147,  188,  206,211 
219,  234,  256. 

Factories,  160. 

Fenollosa,  303. 

Filial  love,  313. 

Fire  boxes,  80,  196. 

Fires,  52. 

Fireworks,  68-72. 

Fish,  55,  136,  138,  237. 

Flowers,  67,  304-308. 


335 


836 


INDEX 


Food  ( see  Gastronomy). 

Forest,  in  Yezo,  171-188. 

Fruit,  192. 

Fuji,  3,  4,  244-249. 

Gastronomy,  11,  27,  70,  77-86,  115, 
130,  132,  143,  192,  209,  216,  220,  221, 
246,  253. 

Geishas,  on  river,  71 ; at  banquets, 
76;  accomplishments  and  charac- 
ter, 76 ; music  and  chaff,  80-84. 
Governor-General  of  Yezo,  154,  156, 
167. 

Griffis,  W.  E.,  24,  33,  39,  43,  74,  273, 
282,  285,  305,  317,  324. 

Guides,  122,  171,  238. 

Hakodate,  134-147,  206. 

Hashiguchi,  158-168. 

Hawaii,  1-3. 

Hearn,  L.,  29!),  318,  323,  328. 

Henson,  H.  V.,  206. 

Horses,  173,  178. 

Hotels,  9-12,  26-28,  256. 

Ice,  59. 

Ieyasu,  227, 

Indians,  6. 

Inns,  125,  138,  150,  161,  195,  221,  225. 
Inundations,  210-219. 

Jinrikishas  ( see  Kurumas) . 
Journalism,  108,  123,  164,  189-191. 
Journalists,  111. 

Kaempfer,  74. 

Kamakura,  21. 

Kamikawa,  185. 

Kissing,  75. 

Kitabatake,  124. 

Kneeling,  94,  95. 

Kuro  Siwo,  6. 

Kurumas,  9,  10,  12,  22,  24,  32-35,  38, 
42,  57,  215. 

Kyoto,  255-266.* 

La  Farge,  J.,  103. 

Lamps,  163. 

Language,  Japanese,  275. 

Lemons,  28. 

Lotos,  Preface,  193,  232,  269-272. 


Merchants,  283. 

Mikado,  1CM)-115. 

Milne,  Professor,  122. 

Miniatures,  161. 

Missionaries,  63,  281-285. 

' Mitford,  324. 

Moats,  40. 

Money,  14. 

Monkeys,  117. 

Morality,  281-291. 
j Mororan,  203. 

Morse,  289,  302. 

I Music,  iu  cheap  theatres,  18 ; native 
band,  19;  Tokyo  city  band,  71: 
geishas  and  samisens,  81,  82; 
drums,  87 ; in  the  theatre,  98 ; 
Professor  Dittrich,  121;  among 
convicts,  185;  vocal  quartet,  187; 
blind  koto  player,  264;  Japanese 
versus  foreign,  298-290. 

Nature,  love  of,  227,  231,  304. 

Nikko,  224-244. 

Normau,  H.,  26,  74,  327. 

Nudity,  49,  55,  57,  152,  204,  214,  222, 
241,  286-297. 

Okuma,  Count,  100-102. 

' Oliphant,  38,  287. 
j Otaru,  148-150. 

Otsu,  267. 

Pacific  Mail,  1-3. 

Painting,  105,  302-304. 

Parsons,  A.,  270. 

Passports,  124. 

Patriotism,  324-326. 

Perry,  6,  287. 

Piggott,  81. 

Pilgrims,  226,  227,  238,  245. 

Pine  Islands,  128-130. 

Poetry,  309-312. 

Policemen,  41. 

Politeness,  50,  149,  316-320. 

Postal  system,  122. 

Poverty,  51. 

Puns,  267. 

Railways,  22-25,  167,  169,  248-254. 
Rain,  219,  224,  245. 

Rice,  85,  86. 


INDEX 


337 


Safety,  43,  44. 

Sake,  86. 

Samisen  ( see  Music) . 

Sampans,  7. 

Samurai,  39,  41. 

Sapporo,  151-165. 

School,  of  law,  100. 

Sculpture,  301. 

Sendai,  124-127. 

Shintoism,  325. 

Shopping,  139. 

Shop  sighs,  comic,  47  ; artistic, 
53. 

Shugio,  H.,  Preface,  78,  83,  95,  100, 
111,  122,  124. 

Silk,  213,  260. 

Smoking,  249-251 . 

Snakes,  244. 

Stage  ride,  204. 

Steamers,  131. 

Stores,  45. 

Taste,  112. 

Tea  godowns,  20. 

Tea  house,  60  (see  Inns) . 

Tea,  stewed,  60;  with  milk,  106. 

Theatres,  17,  91-99. 

Tokyo,  railway  station,  25;  hotel, 
26;  in  summer,  28,  119;  at  night, 
29;  clean  air,  29;  bird’s-eye  view 
and  area,  30 ; parks,  31 ; distances, 
30 ; street  scenes,  37-68 ; yashikis, 
39;  moats,  40;  policemen,  41; 
safety,  43,  44 ; stores,  45-47 ; comic 
signs,  47 ; costumes,  47 ; exposure, 
49 ; bowing,  50 ; poverty,  51 ; fires, 
52 ; shop  signs,  47,  53 ; early  morn- 
ing, 54;  chickens,  55;  fish  market, 
55 ; wells,  56 ; summer  heat,  57 ; 
freight  coolies,  58 ; watering  carts, 
58;  planed  ice,  59;  tea  house,  60; 
carriage  drive,  62;  Tsukiji,  62; 
Buddhist  temple,  63 ; archery  gal- 
lery, 64;  night  crowds,  66;  chil- 
dren. women,  and  foreigners,  67 ; 
flower  show,  67 ; river  festival  and 
fireworks,  68-73;  women,  74;  a 
tea-house  banquet,  77-86;  Yoshi- 
wara,  88-90 ; criminals,  90 ; theatre, 


91-99 ; a high  school,  100 ; Exhibi- 
tion, 103-116. 

Topsy-turvyness,  14,  71,  79-81,  83, 
168,  273-279. 

Tsukiji,  62. 

Typhoons,  13. 

Warner,  C.  D.,  330. 

Water,  dangers  of,  27. 

Waterfalls,  234-243. 

Wealth,  display  of,  320. 

Wells,  56. 

Wigmore,  Professor,  282. 

Wine,  11  ( see  Sake). 

Women  ( see  also  Geishas),  scarcity 
of  foreign,  15;  musicians,  18;  in 
tea  godowns,  20;  costume,  48; 
brunettes  in  blue,  49 ; freedom  of, 
49;  morning  toilet,  55;  archery 
girls,  65 ; and  foreigners,  67 ; a 
baron’s  daughter,  73;  beauty  of, 
74,  75 ; brunettes,  75 ; geishas  and 
waiting  girls,  76-89;  grace  and 
gait,  79;  degraded  class,  88;  calls, 
121 ; standards  of  beauty,  121 ; 
waiting  maids,  125,  130,  140,  141, 
161,  242;  relations  to  men,  142; 
morals,  143;  peasant,  148 ; at  work, 
154;  Aino,  188,  198,  202;  rural 
types,  217;  smoking,  249;  beauty 
after  marriage,  251 ; costume,  251 ; 
Malayan  and  Tartar  types,  261; 
Spanish  resemblances,  262;  in 
Kyoto,  261-263;  chastity,  284;  in 
public  baths,  294-296;  politeness, 
317. 

Wores,  301,  322. 

Wrestlers,  252, 

Writing,  164. 

Yabi,  Preface,  123  et  passim. 

Yashikis,  39. 

Yezo,  climate,  118, 178;  features  of, 
120 ; and  Russia,  152 ; forest,  171- 
188;  clearings,  179;  criminals,  169, 
184. 

Yokohama,  5-21. 

Yoshiwara,  88-90. 

Yumoto,  240-242. 


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